


A Prince and Cinderella (Nanowrimo version)

by Mouibon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, Cycle of Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fairies, I abandoned this but there’s a plot summary for the stuff I didn’t write, Inaccurate abuse though cause this is Nano and unedited so sorry readers T__T, M/M, Male Cinderella, My First Fanfic, NaNoWriMo, One hundred percent unedited, Seer fairy Ushijima is something you never knew you needed, This fic is all over the place with plot points but I promise all of them are important, so that you won’t be left hanging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 70,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21561838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouibon/pseuds/Mouibon
Summary: Yaku’s only goal? Survive within his abusive household and never let his friends find out. Also, to try to be kind to everyone, to fulfill his dying mother’s wish.Lev’s goal? Don’t get caught sneaking out and become trapped in the castle. After all, his parents really don’t want him to marry a poor person, ever since the prophecy said he would cause chaos by marrying one.Lev and Yaku meet. The world won’t be the same.OrThe author’s 100% unedited Nanowrimo fanfic of Grimms Cinderella AU! Yakulev, filled with a shit ton of fairies and subplots.
Relationships: Haiba Lev & Kuroo Tetsurou, Haiba Lev/Yaku Morisuke, Hinata Shouyou & Everyone, Kuroo Tetsurou & Yaku Morisuke, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Sugawara Koushi & Yaku Morisuke, Yakulev don’t meet til the 40000 words mark though so you’ll have to wait
Comments: 57
Kudos: 78





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Ao3 community!
> 
> This is my first fanfic, so I hope it would be a good read! I will admit, I'm nervous as this is the first fanfic I've ever posted, but I hope feedback will be decent!
> 
> A few warnings: I'm probably showing abuse inaccurately, cause this is a 100% unedited Nanowrimo fic (and everyone knows how Nano fics are). Also, swearing and lots of fairies. And you've seen the tags, right?
> 
> Please tell me if ANYTHING is formatted wrong, even if there is an extra space or something, as Ao3 formatting is a shit. I would appreciate ANY feedback on how to make this story better. Be as blunt as possible please!!!! Thank you! :D
> 
> Also, this is the only chapter that wasn't done for Nano but this is still 100% unedited. Just a heads up!

Tears burned a watery trail down Yaku’s cheeks, and he knew it was futile to wipe them away. However, he did use his hand to not let them fall on his mother’s dress. Even now, he was stubbornly polite; he wouldn’t let his emotions ruin his mother’s dress. Especially not now.

“Morisuke...” The only person allowed to call him that said, her hand trembling as it rose to stroke his cheek. “Let yourself cry. It’s okay. You won’t be doing anything bad.”

Yaku leaned into the touch, and then snapped out of it, putting his mother’s hand back onto the bed. “Mother, don’t waste your energy on me. You need to—“

“Stay alive?” Mother said, her face laughing. Yaku would have smiled along with her any other day, but today? She was dying. His beloved mother was _dying—dying—_ and he couldn’t do anything about it.

( _‘Maybe, if I didn’t get that stupid flu’,_ he thought. _‘Maybe, if I didn’t visit her that one time I was sick—just maybe—she would be alive—‘)_

“Are you blaming yourself again?” Mother asked, and she rose her hand again to his cheek, wiping away tear tracks. “Morisuke, please don’t do that. It wasn’t your fault. You weren’t selfish, to want to see me as you got better...”

Yaku cried more. Easier said than done. The guilt ate away at him, no matter what Mother said. And Mother seemed to realize her words were likely not helping, her eyebrows furrowing.

(Yaku could hear his father, screaming and hysterical, in some deep corner of his mind. Father could have been a mile away or right there, in Mother’s room. Yaku really didn’t know where his father was. But he knew for a fact that his father’s sobs became background noise a long time ago.)

“Yaku Morisuke.” Yaku’s attention snapped back to his mother. She never used his full name. “You are the last member of the Yaku family; you realize that?”

He nodded. His mother never took on his father’s last name, and so—when Yaku was born—Yaku’s parents were confused on whose last name Yaku was to take on. Obviously, his mother’s last name was chosen.

“I want you to know two things.” Mother tilted his head to her. Her eyes were so intense—so full of feeling and determination and emotion—it made Yaku have the feeling that he should listen more than he had ever listened in his entire life.

Mother pinched his cheek. “Do not,”—she pulled—“think you need to be impressive Morisuke.”

Yaku blinked in disbelief. “Mother, you said I was the last of—“

“The Yakus. Yes, I know. But...” Mother took his face in her hands. “Do not try to be anything impressive if you do not wish to.” When Yaku still seemed confused at the idea, she continued. “It is alright if you do do something impressive. But do not feel, as the last of the Yaku family, that you have to be remembered.

“You would still make me happy if you lived a simple life.” As Yaku cried a little more, she wiped tears away with her thumb. She twirled a lock of his short brown hair around her ring finger. “As long as you are happy, it doesn’t matter if you fade from the history books. Do as you wish, and do not _ever_ , in a million years, think you could ever disappoint me and your ancestors. Do you understand?”

Yaku let out a weak—and yet, so strong—smile, and nodded. His mother had the sudden thought, for a split second, that he was still the strongest little boy she had ever seen. Not physically, sure, but mentally.

She went on. “The only thing I wish for you to be is kind. Kind as possible to others and yourself. If you are known as a good person, even if only to this tiny town, then it would be the greatest happiness of all. Be kind; that’s all I am asking.”

Yaku took the words in, his mind whirring as gears turned in his head. His mother could see the seriousness of his face, and how Yaku soaked in her words like a sponge.

( _Every once in a while, he should laugh a little more, and not just around me,_ she thought. _No child should ever be as polite and serious as him._

But she didn’t have the time for thinking that. Her breath felt short, and her chest felt more and more tired, as if going to sleep.)

“I will be kind, Mother. I promise.” When Yaku said that, her body had a weight, one she never knew existed, lifted off of it. Yaku didn’t make promises without meaning it.

“Thank you, my Mori.” She laid down on the bed, her arms growing exhausted from holding his face.

Yaku stared at her a little, his face contorting in thought. His tears had stopped for the time being.

He then sat on the bed beside her, and, with a slowness and steadiness only rivaled by the most delicate of craftsmen, went to hug her. She took him in immediately, knowing his hesitance to hurt her, and they laid there. Yaku knew his mother didn’t like serious talks, and so he prepared himself for a joke.

Soon enough...”Aren’t you just a baby?” She smiled, and pinched his cheek. “You’re so small, and you cried so much too!”

Yaku kicked at his mother’s leg, but he didn’t actually hit her. Mother laughed and pulled him closer to her. “Sorry Mori. I love you, you know that?”

“Of course, Mother.”

“‘Of course, Mother.’ That’s what you always say.” She pinched his cheek again, and he kicked near her leg yet again. “You know I’m just joking about your height, right?”

“...I know.”

And a silence was made yet again. Any more joking felt wrong.

His mother coughed, and Yaku launched himself out of the bed to take care of her. “Don’t strain yourself. Come on, I’ll get you some water, Mother.” Here, he took a glass and made her drink it, almost shoving it to her lips. He then took a towel and wet it, and began to lower it to her head.

“My my my, Mori! You’re more of a mother than myself!” Mother said, still coughing, but laughing. She allowed Yaku to put the wet compress on her head though. “And at such a young age too!”

“Mother, how can you be so cheerful?” Yaku asked, sitting on his knees on the floor. Tears pricked at his eyes again. “You are about to die!”

Mother was silent for a few seconds. “I don’t know, Mori. I just don’t like the idea of making you even sadder than you already are.”

(She let out a sigh, and it was so tired that Yaku finally processed she was going to die. Really processed. The idea of her dying seemed so far back then, like a bad dream one barely remembers. But, with that sigh, Yaku felt the realization shatter his heart.)

She was closing her eyes. “Mori.” She croaked that out like it hurt, or at least hurt more than usual. Yaku relished in those two syllables. He would never hear them again. “Have courage. Be kind, if only for me.”

“...Of course.” Yaku said. There was a note of finalization. He was so quiet and serious that, if one were there, they would have had chills.

(Right before she died, Yaku’s mother wondered if Yaku would take her words in the wrong way. If, later in life, he would let people walk all over him, allow abusive people to get away with things, just to keep his promise.

There was no taking back words though. Not when her last breath was to be taken from her.)

Mother smiled. A wide one that showed off dimples. She had brown eyes and light brown hair. There were eye bags under her lashes and her skin was a caramel brown tone. Her cheekbones were nonexistent and her hair was neat and parted in the middle, as always.

( _‘This is the last time I will ever see her alive—‘_ )

Yaku felt her heartbeat. There was nothing.

And with that, he could hear his father’s scream from across the room.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I manage to write half a chapter about how sucky Kuroo’s bedhead is?
> 
> Also, I have...certain insecurities about how I characterized Yaku’s dad and Kenma (holy shit Kenma is done so terribly in this fic, if you ask me). I mean, the ooc for Kenma is very mild in this chapter, but you’ll get what I mean later. 
> 
> I have a certain issue with background characters sounding like robots when they talk. When I revamp this entire thing (when I’m done with this fic; Nano or not, I will finish this to revamp it), I’ll take note to do Kenma justice in the later chapters.

The tension in the air was evident.

The day after Mother’s death was silent. Father did not attempt to talk to Yaku. 

Yaku knew it was because he looked too much like his mother. His light brown hair was short, sure, and he was obviously male. But his large brown eyes with thick lashes, caramel-toned skin, and his thin, lanky body made him look like a tiny, male version of Mother.

( _And because it was all my fault_ \--)

Eventually, a week after, Yaku and his father got a gravestone and carved  Yaku Kou, plus her birthday and death day, into it. Yaku made sure to get a white one, with a couple of gemstones, as he knew Mother would have not liked plain gray. “I don’t want to be remembered as a sad lady!” Mother would have said. “My death is sad, but I am a cheerful woman! My grave should reflect that.”

(He never understood that sort of thinking. Then again, Mother was always so strange, in how happy she was even in the toughest times.

He wishes he were her, in that way.)

The day they planted the grave, Yaku waited until night, when Father went to bed after a long day of selling things. Yaku sneaked out, tiptoeing until he passed the garden.

He sat down in front of his mother’s grave. Took a great, deep breath in. Tried his best to stay calm. But, of course, he failed.

Staying strong was the last thing on his mind. Any other day, he would have been able to swallow down any sort of emotion like it was water.

But looking at that white grave, with the mocking words of Yaku Kou,  April 1st, 2103–July 30, 2145–

He lost the only person able to call him “Morisuke”. The only one allowed to joke about his height, or able to get him to joke around, or get him to smile more. The only person that stayed around him all thirteen years of his life, and smiled like the sun, and—

Before he knew it, tears burned down his cheeks.

——————————————————————

Father still ignored him the entire year after.

(Yes, Yaku knew it was his fault Mother died, and he didn’t need more reminders.)

As snow fell on his mother’s grave and he turned fifteen, Yaku took up volunteering at animal and homeless shelters.  He taught his father how to cook, the basics of cleaning, among other things. School was hard, but Yaku managed to make it to the top of his class and didn’t get into trouble.

Yaku’s patience, as a child, was short, but swallowing down anger became a daily thing as a teen. Whether it was because someone said something annoying—and he would have to remind himself to be kind—or because his father ignored his existence at dinner  again, Yaku swallowed down any sort of emotion.

To occupy his days, and to take his mind off of his grief, Yaku took to cleaning the house when his father wasn’t home—Father was away a lot, being a merchant. Father never commented on the clean house—or the dinner that would be waiting for him—but Yaku was  _fine_ with that, _completely_ fine. Sure, maybe a thank you would have been nice, but it was  _ fine_.

( _Be kind, be thankful--_ )

On another subject, he also met a few friends. Kuroo, Kenma, and Kai weren’t the most normal people, but they were the nicest people Yaku had seen in a long while. After a long time being considered the “boring” or the “overly-serious” friend, it was refreshing to see a place where he was accepted as he was.

It was nice.

——————————————————————

Spring came, and the snow melted off of his mother’s grave. A couple of plants sprouted from the grave as well, as if they had gotten watered by Yaku’s daily tears.

Yaku was putting on his cream-colored pants one day, getting ready to see his therapist, Mr. Hinata. The man was as wise as his son, Shouyou, was a ball of sunshine; it was ridiculous how much he could reason with Yaku’s stubborn, grief-ridden mind. 

Father walked in, and Yaku spared a glance. By this time, Yaku was already dressed—do not worry reader—and pushed past Father to Mr. Hinata’s house. But Father held him back.

“Yaku, where are you going?”

“To Mr. Hinata.” Yaku said, plying his father’s fingers off of his arm. He pushed to get to the door. “I have an appointment.”

“Really?” Father said, and Yaku couldn’t help the annoyance bubbling in his heart. _Really?_ How could his father, who knew that Yaku’s therapy sessions were a weekly event, say _really_ of all things? “Well run over and cancel it.”

“Why?”

“I got yourself a new mother!” Father said that as if it weren’t an earth shattering sentence. And Father probably didn’t consider it an earth shattering event, now that Yaku thought about it. “Don’t worry about it. She’ll be a good person. You’ll love her. She’s coming over this afternoon and I want you to meet her!”

Yaku stood still in the doorway. 

A new mother, huh? In six months?

Wasn’t that a short time to get to know someone?

“—and she has two daughters too! You three would get along splendidly, I would bet!” Father kept rambling on, dragging Yaku’s unresponsive legs all the way to the front door. “Your new stepmother should be coming in a few hours, so goodbye! Come back quickly and dress! You want to look your best with your new mother, right?”

Yaku felt unresponsive, as if his soul flew out of his body. He blinked, but wasn’t able to talk or say anything of value.

He felt his body being shoved out the door and heard the door being locked, but his ears were underwater. His entire  head felt like it was underwater.

For a while, he stared at the cobblestone path outside of his house as if it had answers, with the spring wind caressing his cheeks _. Why did Father never tell me he was courting someone? How did Father get over Mother so quickly? Why did they marry in such a short time?_ And lastly...

Why wasn’t Yaku invited?

To their wedding.

He never got any invites to a wedding. Yaku checked the mail every day. Father never told him he remarried. Did his stepmother and father marry with only a paper? Or maybe...

Maybe they had married with a huge party, and Yaku wasn’t invited to it.

He shook his head without thinking about it. That wasn’t a reasonable conclusion at all. Father didn’t like Yaku, sure, for being the reason Mother died, but Father wouldn’t be  that unreasonable. No person would do that, and certainly not his father, even with Father being cold as of the past year. 

Yaku gazed down at the cobblestone. Then gazed up, to the pathway to the village. 

His head still was numb mush, and felt like it had lead in it.

Still, Yaku made himself get on his horse. Put on the bridle.

_This was a surprise,_ Yaku thought, and any other day he would laugh at how much of an understatement that was. 

But today wasn’t a normal day. His world had come down around him a few minutes(?) ago.

Yaku took the last of the strength he had and forced himself to ride into the distance. He could allow himself to think on the ride to the village.

—————————

The ride was a long one; Yaku’s house was far from the the biggest villages, as Mother had loved the countryside and rolling hills, and Father couldn’t have said no to that. His horse rode through rocky roads, past evergreen forests and rivers, and into Miyagi’s biggest village.

His head had cleared  on the way, thankfully, and he decided that he couldn’t do anything about his new stepmother, nor his new stepsisters. It wasn’t as if he could rewind time and tell Father to not remarry. That was impossible; besides, Father would have remarried regardless of what Yaku said about it.

And Yaku knew it was  selfish and  unreasonable to hate people for...what? Being likable? Likable enough to catch Father’s eye? For daring to exist after Mother died? It wasn’t as if they did anything wrong to Yaku by existing. Besides, his stepmother shouldn’t be considered second best by all means. Maybe she’ll be just as good and sweet as Mother was.

No no no. Comparison wasn’t good. Mother would always be the best person, in Yaku’s eyes. It would be unfair to want his stepmother to live up to his mother. No, it was better to wish that his stepmother was good, and not wish she were someone else.

Yaku got off, tied his horse to a dedicated post, and patted it. “Good job. Thank you,” he said, andgave Ginger an apple, kissing her on the head. The post was close to Mr. Hinata’s house; do not fret, reader, if you wondered if Yaku’s horse would be stolen. 

Mr. Hinata’s house was smack in the middle of the village’s marketplace, which was a bustling place filled with people of all races and skin colors and pleasant smells. People bumped into Yaku as he settled his horse down, and mumbled hurried apologies. All he was paying attention to, however, was the strong smell of cinnamon and fruit from the food stands near him, overpowering his nose as it always did. That, and his mission to tell Mr. Hinata to cancel the appointment.

Yaku was on the front steps...

And then his shirt got pulled by the collar, and he was raised to face a  familiar face with a  terrible bedhead.

“Hey.”

Yaku jumped out of his skin, falling a good few feet to the dirt below. “What the hell, Kuroo!”

Kuroo laughed and laughed as Kenma came up next to him, dressed in a loose, red Victorian blouse and black trousers. Looks like he remembered to dress for the weather, as Yaku told him. 

“Okay, okay. I’ll help ya up,” Kuroo said, feeling Yaku’s death glare burn through his head. He bent down and gave a gloved hand, which, after a few seconds, Yaku accepted. 

“Kuro.”

“Yeah, Kenma?”

“It’s not a good idea to rile up Yaku.”

“I know, kitten,” Kuroo said, and then smirked, the bastard. “That’s  exactly why I do it.”

He got a kick in the shin, for saying that.

Kenma sighed, and then started playing with his magic, warm glows radiating from his fingers. 

Yaku, even standing on the stairs, still had to tilt his head 90 degrees to look Kuroo in the eye. His eyes narrowed. “Kuroo, didn’t I say to brush your hair this morning?”

Kuroo smiled. “I legit just picked you up by the collar and scared you to death and _that’s _what you focus on?”

“Yes.” Yaku pointed down with his finger, and Kuroo didn’t bend down. With another motherly glare from Yaku and a hard kick to the leg, Kuroo bent down and Yaku tried—keyword,  _tried _—to comb the stupid bedhead down. “Jesus Christ Kuroo...do you sleep in the woods or something?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” said Kenma, who had also started to brush Kuroo’s black hair. When Kuroo let out a whine, Kenma pretended to not hear. 

“I’ve told you to brush your hair a million times already young man! It’s eleven in the morning and you allow yourself to go outside with bedhead like _this_?” Yaku said. He could feel a nerve or two break but he didn’t raise his voice. Kuroo could be Yaku’s problematic child at this point—god knows why Yaku hung out with him when Kuroo and him had mutual enmity—but Kuroo wasn’t going to be embarrassed in front of so many people. “And your clothes too! At least press them a little. I’ll teach you how to, if you need it. And—“

“Hey demon-senpai,” Kuroo said, glancing up from between Yaku’s arms. “You done taking care of me yet?”

“No, and I will never be Kuroo,” Yaku said. Kuroo laughed a little, and broke free from the hands in his scalp. “Say Kenma, is there any kind of magic that can fix bad hair?”

“Yes, but I don’t have it.” Kenma said. “I can make combs though, if you want."

“Will that drain you?” Yaku asked. Magic could take a lot out of a person, even if a person was as powerful as Kenma. “I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“Nah,” Kuroo said, and Yaku—with a start—remembered he knew Kenma since childhood. “Kenma’s been making combs for me since yesterday. He’s not tired now, so...”

“Did you run out or something?”

“No...” Kuroo smiled again, but it was awkward and sheepish. “It’s just that...I took your advice and—“

“And what?” Yaku asked. He was slightly satisfied at the thought that Kuroo took his advice.

“I kinda broke all my combs?” 

Kuroo shrugged his arms, his wrinkled red shirt crinkling. Kenma’s mouth turned up in the corner just the tiniest bit as Yaku started laughing, his hand over his mouth. Kuroo then started laughing too. A good thing about Kuroo, in Yaku’s opinion: he could laugh at himself. “I know Yakkun. You’re gonna laugh at this _forever_.”

“There were about 20 combs broken yesterday.” Kenma said, his mouth still turned up, and Yaku thought it was the sweetest thing he had ever seen. “There was a pile.”

Kuroo was still laughing, almost rivaling a hyena. “The  _one __time_ I decided to get you off my back for something, and _I_ _break 20 combs_. ” 

Yaku laughed and laughed and took back what he thought earlier; these sort of conversations were what drew him to Kuroo and Kenma and Kai. These conversations that came out of completely nowhere, the ones that meant no sense to anyone but himself and them. These conversations that took his mind off of whatever serious thoughts he thoughts, of thoughts of Mother or Father, or thoughts and fears of his new stepfamily. These conversations, and Kenma’s shy smiles, and Kuroo’s somehow endearing gadfly tendencies, were what drew Yaku to them.

(He took a moment to thank his friends for being here, for existing in his life.)

The laughter died down, and Yaku started, realizing he forgot the reason he was in the marketplace.

It must have shown, as Kuroo’s face turned just the slightest more sincere. Actually no;  _very _sincere. “Something bothering you, Yaku?”

“Just remembered to cancel my appointment,” Yaku said. “I’ll meet you three out here and—wait, where’s Kai?”

“Kai’s taking care of Shibayama’s—“ Shibayama being another friend they had—“sickness. Don’t worry about him. And why are you canceling your session? You’ve had sessions since forever!”

“...Father asked me to.”

“Your stupid dad?” Kuroo said. “Damn Yaku. He leaves you at home 24/7 and thinks he can tell you what to do after that?”

“He isn’t stupid!” Yaku said, a little too loud. Then he quieted. It wasn’t helping his case if he acted defensive. “And it’s important. I have a stepfamily now, apparently.”

“Wait, what?” Kuroo said, and Yaku tried to focus on the conversations and sounds around him instead of Kuroo’s confusion. It didn’t work though, and Kenma’s stare into the back of Yaku’s head didn’t help.

(To be honest, Kuroo could be way too genuine at the wrong times.)

Kenma went over to Yaku and sat him down. Then sat Kuroo down. Then seated himself down. And Yaku could’ve protested at being payed attention to, could’ve said that he was  fine (and he truly  was, no matter what  anyone said), but Kenma was a force to be reckoned with when determined and Yaku knew it. Besides, it wasn’t everyday one gets to see Kozume Kenma want to initiate talking.

Yaku knew that as much as Kuroo did.

So they let themselves be manhandled and Kenma asked, “Your father married in six months? After your mother died?”

“I seems like it,” Yaku said, still a little surprised at the fact Kenma was starting a conversation but good lord, he was a proud parent. Even despite the fact this conversation was about Yaku himself.

“That’s strange.” Kenma said, pondering, and Yaku’s heart took a drop to his knees.

“...Hey, I’m fine.” Yaku said that, eyes lowered to his knees. Troubling other people was  not a good thing to do. “My stepfamily won’t be as bad as I think. I know this. It’s a reasonable conclusion.”

“We didn’t even say anything...”

“I know what pity is, Kuroo,” Yaku said.

There was a silence, and the sounds of the marketplace, which was supposed to be a place for cheer and angry traders, faded away. Kenma played with his magic again, conjuring things in and out of existence. Kuroo looked up at the sky as if it had answers. Then Kuroo said, “Well, if your stepfamily turns out to be shit, we’ll support you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Another great thing about Kuroo: changing the mood was as easy as breathing for him.

Yaku bit down a smile. “Nothing I can do about it?”

“Yes!” Kuroo pumped a fist filled with energy. “There will be nothing you can do about it! We’ll support your ass like no tomorrow, Mom!”

“Cursing, Kuroo!” Yaku said, giving a punch to Kuroo’s thigh. “And I’m _not_ your mom!” Yaku then started smiling, just a little, at the lifted mood. Then laughed. Then grinned.

Kenma’s eyes went to Kuroo. Then Yaku. Then Kuroo again. He turned his magic off. “What Kuro said.”

There was something about Kenma’s expression—a sort of confusion on what just happened—that made Yaku smile a little wider. 

Kuroo stood up and pointed at Yaku, almost poking a finger into his short, light brown hair. “If you become a worrywart and it turns out your stepfamily’s great, Shiba and Kai and I will get permission to tease you forever, Yaku.”

“What if I don’t want to be teased?” Yaku said, face still hurting from the crazy amount of smiling he had done.

“You’ll just have to deal with it!” 

It was at that moment that a door opened behind Yaku, and he realized where he was, and what his mission was supposed to be, and found he lost track of time.

“Yaku, have you forgotten your appointment?” Mr. Hinata asked, caressing his excitable son’s cheek.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the stepfamily and Hinata is a ball of sunshine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is even pacing? Like IDK anymore.
> 
> Also, is Yaku overreacting with his stepfamily in this chapter? I’m not sure. I, as an author, can’t really judge like a reader can.

"Kenma! Yaku! Kuroo!" Hinata said, almost getting out of his father’s firm grasp on his shoulder. “Dad, can I play? Can I play?”

(Out of the corner of his eye, Yaku saw Kenma perk up a bit.) 

“Shouyou, let me talk to your friends first, alright? Then you four can play. Set up your toys while I talk, alright?”

“Alright Dad!” With that, Hinata jumped back into his house quicker than an antelope, his twelve-year-old legs slapping the wood floor.

Mr. Hinata had a fond smile, looking back into the house, and then turned to face Yaku, having twinkling eyes. “I know people love their friends, and you are only fourteen, but I  had expected more from you Yaku.”

“Sorry sir. I got carried away. I didn’t keep track of time and I’m sorry.” With that, Yaku bowed down at a 90 degree angle, a sincere sense of sorriness settling in him. How was he so stupid to keep someone waiting for—what?—30 minutes? “It won’t happen again; I promise you!”

Mr. Hinata laughed in good humor. “Yaku, you don’t need to bow like that for  being late. Always such a serious child...” The last part was more to himself. “Besides,”—Here, he patted Yaku’s head as if he was a child—“you’re having fun with your friends. I can hardly blame you for wanting to be a normal fourteen year old and not a mother for once.”

Yaku could hear Kuroo chuckling to the left of him, and fought down some sense of annoyance. Yeah,Yaku allowed adults to “walk all over him” (Kuroo’s words, not his). So what? Yaku respected his elders.

“—and having fun means your mental health could be on the way to getting better! So don’t worry about it, Yaku.” Mr. Hinata finished speaking, and stepped back, removing his hand from Yaku’s head. “So what were you three talking about before I got here?”

“Deoxyribonucleic aci—“

“Kuro’s hair.” Kenma said, even though Kuroo was very obviously trying to lie. He picked at his red blouse. “He broke 20 combs trying to brush it yesterday. Yaku had told him to brush it for ages.”

Mr. Hinata laughed at that. “Yaku is exactly the person with his friends as he is with me.” He then turned to Kuroo. “Tell me, Kuroo, why would anyone talk about DNA with you?”

“Because it’s cool? And genetics is cool? And the way that adenine, thymine, guanine, and cytosine make up nucleotides that make up DNA is interesting?” Kuroo was trying to make himself not sound stupid again, and Yaku  would have laughed at that any other time; however, this was one of the times where Kuroo actually  succeeded at making himself sound smart. 

(Yaku remembered—with a start—that Kuroo was smarter than he looked. He cursed himself for forgetting that Kuroo was in every honor class possible at school.)

Mr. Hinata laughed. Yaku then turned to him, realizing he hadn’t explained his lateness enough. “Ah, Mr. Hinata, can I cancel my appointment for today?”

“I suppose—you’re kinda already late young man. Why, if I may ask?” Mr. Hinata asked, his orange-grey hair getting into his glasses. He pulled down his brown vest, seeing it get above his white shirt.

“Ah, Father told me to cancel it today. He didn’t tell me my new stepfamily was going to be here today, so I came to cancel it.”

“A new stepfamily? Well, good heavens that’s a big change.” Mr. Hinata blinked. Yaku couldn’t have agreed more with him. “And he didn’t tell you in advance? That’s quite inconsiderate of him.”

Yaku wondered whether he was talking about the marriage or the appointment.

Probably the appointment. “It’s inconvenient, but I can’t do anything about it.” He shrugged. “And a stepfamily is a big change, but I’ll get used to it.”

“Well...”—Mr. Hinata leaned down, whispering in Yaku’s ear—“if you have issues with your feelings, or with your mother and stepmother, schedule something with me as soon as today ends, alright?”

“Alright.” Yaku said, much too casually for how he actually felt. He suddenly grew  very aware of how Kuroo and Kenma were right behind him. 

“Good,” Mr. Hinata said, straightening himself up.

Just as an awkward silence set in, or at least as silent as a marketplace could be, Hinata ran out the door, shattering the mood. “Dad, Dad! Can we play yet?”

The noises of the marketplace picked up again, and everyone had a mental sigh of relief. Thank god Hinata was such a ball of sunshine. “Yes, Shouyou. That is,”—he glanced over at Kuroo and Kenma—“If they want to.”

Kenma stepped up the stairs to Hinata—a quiet yes, if Yaku had ever seen it. It was so touching, he almost (internally) cried from joy, even though he had seen Hinata and Kenma together so many times over the past month.

“Of course we want to. Come on, little bro,” said Kuroo, patting Hinata’s fire orange hair. Hinata leaned into the touch, his grin filled with light. Then he looked over at Yaku.

“Are you joining us Yaku-san?”

Yaku went over to Hinata, who was five foot five like he was. “Sorry, I have a new stepfamily I have to meet.”

“Ah, really?!” Hinata said, and Yaku almost laughed at how wide his eyes were. “Then you  have to tell me if they’re nice or not later! Tell me  everything later! Do you have step-siblings too?”

“Yeah, I do have step-siblings.” Thank every high deity for Hinata never asking personal questions. Yaku had too many people ask him if he was okay today. “And I will tell you everything later, okay? But I have to ride off. I have to look good for my new...family.”

(Family was hard to get off of his tongue, for some reason. 

Jesus Christ, his stepfamily didn’t need someone like him, who judged them harshly for...what? Not being like Mother? 

_I’m such a unfair, terrible person._ )

Hinata didn’t comment on the pause before ‘family’, though his face, for a second, tightened. He went back to smiling though. Again, thank every high deity for Hinata never asking questions. “You always look good though, Yaku-san! Really cute!”

Hinata was one of the only people that could get away with calling Yaku ‘cute’, and he knew it, judging from the slight smirk.

Still though, Hinata was genuine. “Thanks, Hinata-san. I have to go now.”

Kenma was now pulling on Hinata’s cream-colored shirt. “I have to go too! Bye Yaku-san!”

And so with that, Yaku went on Ginger, mounted her, gave her an apple for waiting, and rode off. 

When he was a few feet away however, he heard Hinata run to him, somehow keeping up with Ginger. “Bye Yaku-san!I’ll—I mean,  _we’ll _miss you! And your maturity too! And your sweets!”

Hinata was too cute. “Bye Hinata-san.”

As he rode past the same rivers and forests and rocky roads, he took some time to reflect on Hinata’s words.

_They’ll miss my maturity, huh?_ He wasn’t sure about  maturity,  but it was a great compliment. For someone like Hinata—all jumpy and excitable and carefree—a worrywart as serious as Yaku shouldn’t have been likable. And yet here Yaku was, being missed by one of the most popular little boys in the kingdom of Miyagi.

Huh.

The boy that was friendless much of his childhood because he was “too serious”....he was being missed by the most cheerful, most popular boy in the kingdom.

Yaku found he was warm all the way home.

——————————————————————

Yaku changed into his fanciest clothes, pulling them on as if friction could stop the anxiety welling up inside him.

The friction did help though, and Yaku found himself calmer than he was an hour ago. Going over to a mirror, he checked himself up.

Plain. No matter how much his mother had been called beautiful, and no matter how much Yaku looked like the tiny, male version of her, that was the only thing he could use to describe his appearance.

Light brown hair cut close to his skull, as plenty of people. Large brown eyes, like a lot of people. Light tan skin, like a whole lot of people.

Yeah, he wasn’t  ugly —he knew that for a fact—but he certainly wasn’t  handsome either.

His plaid, brown vest, white shirt, and brown pants didn’t help either. Clothes didn’t matter to Yaku, but now he was starting to regret that. His stepfamily was going to see him, and their first impression of him was likely going to be like everyone else’s: a plain person that didn’t deserve any attent—

No no no. That wasn’t reasonable at all. It was true he wasn’t the most interesting looking, and that was fine to him; Yaku thought himself handsome, and it was fine if no one else thought he was handsome, because their opinion—in the grand scheme of things—didn’t matter. If Yaku thought himself handsome, then it didn’t matter what other people thought of his looks. Self love was important, and Mr. Hinata helped Yaku see that. 

And if self love, for Yaku, was liking the plain clothes he always wore, then that was how he loved himself.

Besides, no one cared much if he looked plain. No, people cared if you were nice and polite. Yaku could do that. 

He adjusted his white collar. Then his bolo tie with a tiny blue gem, which was the fanciest thing he had on. Though the clothes were plain, he felt it was easy to breathe in them, and it would be unfitting to pair someone as normal as him with fancy clothes fit for a prince, not a merchant’s son.

“What are you doing taking so long in there?”

Yaku turned around so fast he could feel the whiplash.

Father peered into Yaku’s room, which was dark because Yaku liked to have the curtains drawn. “Seriously? That’s the clothes you want to have for your new mother? For how good they’ll be to you, I expected better.”

“I look nice in this,” Yaku said, crossing his arms.

“It’s not fancy enough.”

“I’m not comfortable in fancy clothes. They don’t fit me, and I don’t like how I look in them,” Yaku explained. And it was true.

When in fancy clothes, he felt....not himself. Like trying to pair a piece of bread with the most expensive of caviar.

“Is that it? Nonsense! You’ll look good in expensive clothes!” Here, Father pushed Yaku to the closet. “Choose some fancier things! They’regoing to come in a few minutes. Don’t be late.” And with that, Father left.

“But I won’t be mysel—“

Yaku stopped, upon realizing Father didn’t stop to listen. He sighed.

To be fancy or to not be fancy?  He thought sarcastically. 

It  would  be a good idea to obey Father, but at the same time...would Yaku’s discomfort show? Would his discomfort be worth pleasing his new stepfamily, who could likely see right through him? After all, Yaku wasn’t that impressive by himself—he knew this—and, if his stepfamily was to be as nice as Father said, his stepfamily wouldn’t really care if he wore a king’s cape or a peasant vest.

Still...

After deliberation, he took off his plaid, brown vest and exchanged it for a tight, chocolate brownone instead.

That should be fancy enough, right?

—————————-

Everything was a disaster. 

Number one. The first thing Yaku heard from one of his stepsisters, Ivy, as he would later learn, was this: “Wow, he tried a little too hard, huh?”

This was whispered to Yaku’s other stepsister, Anya, who nodded in return, her soft facial features not moving an inch. Ivy and Anya both had identical, masculine faces—they were twins, as Yaku later found out—and both had short, light brown hair. 

It was _crazy_ how much the twins looked like him. If someone mistaken the twins as boys—an easy mistake—they would have thought Yaku, Ivy, and Anya were triplets. Along with the short, light brown hair cut close to the scalp, they also had his large brown eyes and light tan skin.

It was like looking into a mirror.

After that comment hurt his pride (and Yaku wished he had trusted his own judgement), everyone was sent to eat lunch.

It was about two in the afternoon, and the sun shone through the humongous window in the dining room like there was no tomorrow. The dining table, now stretched out to fit five instead of three, was covered with the finest velvet tablecloth. The porcelain plates were laid out with the forks, spoons, and knifes in impeccable condition.

It was here that the second disaster happened. As they ate lunch, Father spent the entire dinner talking and talking. His new stepmother watched on, her knife-sharp fingernails drumming against her cheek.

His stepmother was a old beauty. Thin, black hair fell into sharp, jagged, tan cheekbones. Her fingers were as long as miniature swords and her skin was textured and leathery, showing her age.

All of those features shouldn’t have worked together, but her face and body turned out lovely all the same. For someone that was about forty, she was pretty.

Anyways, she was ‘listening’ to Father talk on and on about his accomplishments, and places he had visited, and things he had seen, and his connections to high-class people in countries far away, and—

Christ, Yaku knew this was going to happen. Father loved talking about himself more than he loved anything else, and as Yaku saw Ivy ‘jokingly’ fall asleep and Anya bite back a smile, Yaku felt the sweet embrace of death approach him.

The drum of his stepmother’s fingers slowed until she instead pressed them into her cheek, leaving some marks.

Yaku had a foreboding feeling; something bad was going to happen, and soon.

“Father,” Yaku said before he thought of anything. His stepmother’s head turned 90 degrees to the left in a mechanical way, and his stepsisters cocked their heads to the side at him in the manner of a curious bird. “I do think your adventures are interesting, but may I know how you and my stepmother met?”

Father squeezed his eyes, as if he could wish Yaku’s existence away if he did. “I should finish my story of the prince of Nagano...and Ai is your mother now, Yaku.”

“Talk ‘bout mom! Talk ‘bout mom!” Ivy said a little too quickly. She glanced over to Yaku before facing Father again. “Pleeeeeeaaaaase!”

Father glanced over at Yaku, and he sunk down a little in his seat at the heat in his father’s gaze. Yaku straightened himself up right after that though. “Fine.”

(Was the ‘disaster’ Father talking about himself too much, or Yaku managing to anger him? Both? In hindsight, Yaku wasn’t sure.)

The third disaster? 

It started when his stepmother and Father were talking about beauty. His stepsisters were chattering among themselves, and no matter how much Yaku tried, he couldn’t break through the invisible wall in between him and them. 

“Yuck.” Anya said. “This steak is the worst thing I have ever tasted.”

“Are you kidding me?” Ivy said, with a different steak on her plate. “This is the best meat I’ve ever tasted in years!”

“Your steak was done by me, Ivy,” Yaku said. 

“Oh,” Ivy said.  “ Well, it’s a good steak. Someone else must have made Anya’s.”

(Father made it. Father made Anya’s steak.)

Ivy then ate a little slower, as if Yaku could have poisoned the steak, and Yaku tried to not blame her.  _She’s just tentative of you, that’s all._

Then, upon noticing Father was going to speak, but was interrupted, Yaku said, “Sorry, Father. Were you going to speak?”

“Yes.” Father straightened himself out, acting with a sense of self importance. “Anya, what are your standards of beauty? Your mother and I were talking about it, and both thought  I am certainly a pretty specimen.”

“Well, I would think beauty standards would look like Ivy.”

“You’re just complimenting yourself, you shit!” Ivy yelled.

“Take the compliment, you bitch.” Anya said, uncaring.

(Yaku had no idea how to feel about the fact the twins had the  gall to curse at a formal family dinner, and the first one too.)

“Well, I do look like you two, right?” Yaku said, trying to insert himself into conversation for the fifth time that afternoon. He tried to be playful this time. “Does that mean I’m pretty too?”

Anya observed him, looking him up and down. Yaku had the sense he really shouldn’t have said that. Anya smirked. “Nah. You’re more plain. Makes sense. You’re a boy. And shorter than me.”

( Why did they have to point that out????)

“Yeah! You could be a kitchen boy!” Ivy said, sporting the same smirk. “With your cooking skills, you would be the perfect, generic kitchen boy!”

Yaku ate the last of his vegetables, unlike everyone else, with a certain, steady slowness.  _Generic, huh?_

“Kitchen boy, kitchen boy!” Ivy leapt out of her chair, her pink dress flapping up around her as she went to observe Yaku’s face. “Honestly, you only look like me and Anya because you have the same hair and eyes. Otherwise, you’re kinda ugly in comparison to us.”

...

_ Ugly, huh? _

Stepmother laughed at the Ivy’s silliness and, as husbands do, Father laughed along with her. Anya bit back a smile as Ivy kept pointing out flaws about Yaku’s appearance. 

Yaku wanted to disappear into a hole, never to return, and with no stepsisters poking at his biggest insecurities following after him. He took the insults as best he could, tried to not have a certain part of his heart hurt every single time he was said to be  plain, or  ugly, or  serious. 

He took all of it as he usually did, and strengthened the barriers around himself more.

“And your face frowns all the time; it’s no fun!” Ivy said, pulling at his mouth without permission. Yaku took a moment to wonder if he really did frown that much, before the sensation of humiliation overtook him.

“Can you please stop?” Yaku said, a little loud, but as polite as he could have gotten his voice to be. That is,  very polite. “ _Please_?”

“Yaku—“—Of course Father would call him Yaku, and not Morisuke—“Ivy was just joking. Don’t take it so seriously.”

“I know she was joking,” Yaku said, staying calm and trying to explain. “But—“

“Come on,  brother.  Do not take it like you did. Do you not have a sense of humor,  brother ?” Anya said, emphasizing  brother with a candy-sweet tone. Father gave an approving look, and Yaku, within that moment, realized  exactly what Anya was trying to do.

“Yeah,  brother . I mean,  sorry for hurting your feelings and stuff,” said Ivy, with unfitting nonchalance, “but it  was just a joke.”

“I know—“

“Then why are you talking?” Said his stepmother, and Yaku looked to his left to find lidded black eyes staring at him, as if judging him. It was the first time she had talked to him. “Why do you have to explain yourself?“

_Because I haven’t been able to explain myself my whole life,_ Yaku thought, almost screaming it in his head. _ Because you’re my new family now and we should care about each other’s boundaries._

“ Well, it is obvious you don’t have a sense of humor and don’t like your appearance being commented on. Anya, Ivy, don’t do it again.”

“Yes Mom.” The twins said, and went back to eating. 

Father gave a stern glare before going back to talk with Stepmother.

Shame and  humiliation and  embarrassment and  hatred riled up in his gut like a horrible soup, making a terrible concoction of negative emotions inside of himself. His stepmother’s words were like knifes to him, plunging into his stomach in and out and in and out...

He  did have a sense of humor! He  can talk about his appearance! He could do all of those things, and yet a person who didn’t talk to him at all decided that he was too  serious and  insecure.

Yaku had insecurities like anyone else. It was inevitable that someone, who had been called too serious and plain their entire life, would get insecurities. But it didn’t mean he thought about it every second of the day, or cried over it every night. He was hard-hearted to these sort of things by now.

It’s just that too much poking at a person’s weak spots will inevitably make them upset, jokes and hard hearts aside.

Yaku managed to make it through the whole dinner, the shame and embarrassment on his shoulders being what the Earth was for Atlas.

—————-

Afterwards, when all was said and done and his stepfamily went off to do as they wished, Yaku sneaked to Mother’s grave.

The gemstones were clean—no need for polishing today—and the stone was as impeccable as ever. The stones laid next to the tombstone were shiny and the tiny flowers that grew near the stones bloomed out of the ground, ready to be watered by Yaku’s tears.

Yaku took the time to take in the day. It was a windy spring day, and—from beyond the tall, stone garden wall—Yaku could see the green fields of the countryside. The trees in the garden rustled and it was a quiet day, or rather a quiet evening at four o’clock. Too bad he was going to ruin it with his crying. 

He took a look around behind him. No one was coming from the kitchen door, nor the glass back door.

“Hey Mother.” He said. “Father remarried. I hope today was a bad first impression.” He smiled a little, but it was a bitter one. He went down on his knees, not caring about his pants getting messy from the dirt. “My stepfamily teased me today, and didn’t stop when I asked them to. Am I over sensitive? For being upset when they sincerely were just joking? I mean, it was about my appearance and mannerisms....you know about my sensitivity to that sort of thing.

“I think I should give them the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps they had a bad day, or I’m not understanding something about them.” Yaku closed his eyes in thought. “Mother, how  should I proceed? Some days, I still wish for your kind of comfort, or your unwavering advice. What should I do when I am misunderstood by people?”

Even though it had been a straight six months, Yaku still found there was a tear crawling down his cheek, falling into the dirt below. 

His mother told him to be strong. And he tried. He really did. What would she say if she saw him crying now?

Nothing bad, now that he thought about it. She would have, in a cheerful but encouraging way, said to ' _keep it up'_ , or that ' _there are always bumps in the road'_. That was what she would have said.

The thought made him cry a little more, and he watered the dirt near his mother’s tomb until he had no tears left.

——————————————

Later, when Hinata was done rambling about his new friends, Kageyama and Suga and Dai-something, he asked about Yaku’s stepfamily.

There was a silence, and Yaku hated how the silence shouted out his guilt.

Hinata went over and rubbed up against Yaku’s arm, his soft, messy hair rubbing up and down. The night moon shone its light, making his face a unnatural shade of blue. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. That would be bad and dumb of me.”

“We just got off on the wrong foot, that’s all,” Yaku said, and he realized how defensive that sounded.

“Well...I’ll be there. For you, along with Kai and Shiba and Kuroo and Kenma....a lot of people actually!” Hinata jumped up, his feet landing on the backyard porch as loud as possible.

“Would you remember me though?” Yaku asked, half jokingly and half seriously. 

“No, I remember all of my friends actually!” Hinata said, smiling. “There’s so many I can’t list them all, but everyone is so cool and interesting in their own way!”

_Of course Hinata would say something like that_,  Yaku thought. 

“Besides, even if I disappeared off of the earth or something, you have everyone else! The entirety of Nekoma village’s most powerful are your friends. That’s really cool!”

“...thanks, Hinata.” Yaku said. 

Even later though, when he lied in a warm, soft blanket, trying to go to sleep, he wondered about...many things. If Hinata ever disappeared, what will happen to everyone who loved him? Kenma? Lonely people? Would anyone, even Hinata, remember him? Would there ever be a situation where Yaku lost his friends?

And lastly, would his friends still love him, still want the best for him, if he, himself, disappeared out of their lives?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert, but the end foreshadows something.
> 
> Also, tell me your impressions of Ivy and Anya in the comments! I have a certain vision for them, and I hope to reach that vision.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaku is a frog that gets put into a pot of hot water, where the heat keeps going up and up...
> 
> Also, Ivy and Anya can go die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can, please give me feedback! :D
> 
> I also tried my best to show how abuse isn't something that happens overnight. It's something where small things turn to bigger and bigger things, if that makes sense. I hope I got *some* part of it right...

His stepsisters and stepmother moved into the house. 

At first it wasn’t bad. It really wasn’t.

At first, it was some teasing that went too far, or ignoring Yaku’s existence whenever they could. He could deal with that. Maybe he wasn’t nice enough, or maybe they didn’t intend to ignore him. He could understand that. All he had to do was to be more involved, or talk to them more, or find common things to talk about. 

(He didn’t know what women liked, but there had to have been _something_ he could talk about with them. That was his thought process.)

He kept hitting an invisible wall though. It was as if his stepfamily did everything they could to protect themselves, to be private. Yaku could have understood the feeling; he had many times where he simply didn’t want to talk about something either. But the conversation was dull, with a lack of feeling or deeper connection, and no matter how hard he tried, he kept hitting a wall. Instead of joking about friends or asking about each other’s day, there was talk of favorite colors and the terrible winds Miyagi had in spring.

He tried to be patient, but there was only so much one can talk about. Besides, it wasn’t as if he was doing anything wrong by trying to ask how his stepfamily’s day went.

Maybe it was him. He  was the only one that still called his stepfamily a stepfamily, after all; the twins called him  brother all the time now, in that candy-sweet tone they used during the dinner. 

Maybe, he was being too pushy. Maybe his words were what kept them away. And so he became quieter.

Then, things started to be taken from him. The twins picked on him for his serious, motherly attitude and acquired silence. Father and Stepmother went out all the time now, and so he was left alone with his step—no, _sisters_ —much of the time.

It started with wanting to exchange rooms. Yaku had soft, handmade blankets and a bigger room than the twins. In comparison, the twins shared a smaller room, for it was the only other bedroom other than Yaku’s and their parents. They also had handmade blankets too, but they were a little thinner than Yaku’s, and therefore not as warm.

There were complaints and more complaints, until they demanded for his room. No, not asked,  demanded.

“Give us your room. It’s unfair!” Ivy said. When Yaku said that the room was with him for a long time, and that, all things considered, his room wasn’t that big in comparison to the twins, they scowled. “Ah, so  big brother doesn’t want us to be happy?”

“I do though...”

“Then give us your room!” Ivy said. “It’s selfish to want to keep your sisters living in such a cramped space. Selfish, _selfish, selfish, selfish, selfish_!”

And so he went into the room. It wasn’t that bad; a little discomforting, sure, since it was a new area, but fine. But then, Ivy wanted a room all for herself. 

“It’s so cramped in there!” Ivy whined one day, helping to chop carrots for dinner. She was doing a bad job, her hands being terrified of the knife, and so Yaku put his hands over hers to teach her. She yanked them away. “I’m doing just fine _brother_!”

“I saw you were having trouble. Do you need help?”

“No!” Ivy said, immediately starting to chop at a quick rate. Yaku sighed internally; he would have to fix the sizes of the carrots slices when Ivy was done cutting. “Anyway, Anya,  before brother interrupted,” she said, glaring a little at him, “I can’t have fun with you!”

“You run around while I do schoolwork,  Ivy.”

“Bad schoolwork.”

“I do not get bad grades, Ivy, no matter what you may think.”

“Yes you do!”

“Calm down Ivy. Calm down Anya,” Yaku said, putting down his knife. “Sisters don’t say that to each other.”

“Shut it brother. We’re just bickering as siblings do, _right_ Ivy?” Anya said, pointedly bumping Ivy’s shoulder. There was a smirk on her face that Yaku didn’t like.

“Huh? Oh yeah! Maybe loosen up a little, big brother!” Ivy said, apparently getting what Anya wanted to do.

“I just thought you two were going to fight. And please don’t tell me to loosen up.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Ivy said that for the hundredth time, meaning none of it. She would tell him to not be serious again, and Yaku knew it. “ Anyway , I just want a room to myself! Anya’s not fun to live with.” She poked her sister’s cheek. “And there’s so little room!”

Yaku wasn’t sure about the ‘too little room’ part. His former bedroom took up about half of the upper floor. But, he then decided, it was best to give benefit of the doubt. Maybe living in the same room as someone made a huge room  feel cramped.

Still though...half of the upper floor wasn’t enough for Ivy?

As Yaku thought, Ivy then stopped talking, and turned to him with the biggest, most terrifying Cheshire Cat grin he had ever seen. He also had the feeling that, next to him, Anya was slowly growing that same grin.

(There was something scary about an identical face, so similar to yours, grinning so wide. Yaku held his ground though, keeping his face straight and his body still.)

“Hey  brother ,” Ivy said. “What if you gave your room to me?”

“What?”

“Give your room to me.” Ivy said, and this wasn’t a question, but a demand. “You’ll do anything for your sister.”

“But—“

“It would benefit me, actually,” Anya said, interrupting from somewhere behind him. “I won’t have Ivy running everywhere. Let’s do this,  brother .”

“But where would I sleep then?” Yaku asked. He had the sudden feeling that bad things were going to happen from then on, and fear took hold of him. He wrestled his thoughts however. “There’s only my bedroom—“—soon to become Ivy’s bedroom—“Father and Stepmother’s bedroom, and you two’s bedroom.”

“I don’t know. All I know is that I want your room and that I don’t want Anya’s complaining.” Ivy said, a little too casual to be innocent. Anya hit her in the side, but Yaku could only focus on how Ivy didn’t seem to care that he would be bed-less after this.

“That’s unreasonable,” Yaku said. His calm was slipping a little. He grasped a little unto his white collared shirt. “I need to sleep  somewhere . Can’t you tell Anya to move her things, or talk something out?”

“Aww, but  Yaku ...” Ivy said, putting on her angel voice. With the amount of times Yaku had been called  brother at the time, it was surprising that they actually knew his name. “Wouldn’t you do something for your sister?”

“But it’s completely unreasonable. You can’t leave someone with nowhere to sleep because you think your room’s cramped!”

“Stop your seriousness, brother,” Anya said, smiling a wicked smile. “We can arrange to move you to the attic, maybe.”

It was then, with that wicked smile, that Yaku realized, with dawning horror, what the twins were doing. 

Ivy didn’t want his room. It was true that she had more than enough space up in her bedroom. No, she and Anya just wanted to take from him.

“We’ll ask Mom and Dad about it.  Maybe they’ll hear you out,” Ivy said.

That ‘maybe’ reminded him of how much his father and stepmother wouldn’t take his side. No, it was always the bright eyed twins.

(Yaku wondered, for a second, if Father was trying to replace him, wife-killer he was, with girl lookalikes. 

If so, Father was succeeding.)

Ivy got the room, and it was arranged that Yaku was to live in the tiny attic. There was no light shining into his new room, unlike in the previous bedrooms, except through a tiny glass trapdoor in the ceiling. It was tiny too; even though Yaku was short, and he knew it, all of his clothes and bed barely fit inside. He didn’t even have any hoarding problems either; the only other things he bought with him were a few tiny picture frames of his mother and a volleyball to have fun with.

(He remembered the amount of times he was cut off by his stepmother, or his father, or Ivy, or Ana. He remembered the silence that his stepmother demanded from him, the disappointment from his father when he wouldn’t back down. _Selfish_ , unreasonable, _immature_ , _serious_...it was all too much to handle.

Everything was crazy. Yaku remembered he snapped when something was said about his height. A joke about his short temper. Only Mother could call him short. He had decided that when she died.

_Unreasonable, unreasonable unreasonable unreasonable...!! Everything,_ _ everyone _ _was crazy!_ Anger took the reins during that time.)

It was uncomfortable in the attic, separated from the rest of his family. There, he thought about things, and came to blame himself. Maybe arguing about a room was a little stupid. Maybe Ivy did sincerely need more space. And maybe thinking Ivy was selfish and inconsiderate was bad?

Maybe he wasn’t right. But, no matter how hard Yaku thought, he couldn’t justify how...terrible it was that Ivy would want someone’s room without thinking of where  they’ll go after she takes it. 

————————————----

After a while, he got used to things. But then jokes, or rather, ‘jokes’, turned cruel.

“Look at how the kitchen boy walks!” Anya would say when he came out of the kitchen after cooking everyone food, hands stacked with plates. “Look at how lazy this guy can be!” Ivy would say when he was resting on the sofa after a long day of cooking and cleaning—turned out, his stepfamily was as bad at cleaning and cooking as his father.

And then things, in general, turned cruel. “If he wants to be with us, he’s got to work for it.” He heard the twins saying to Stepmother one day. “What does he do with his time, other than be a teacher’s pet and hang out with his friends? Does he even have interests that contribute to society?”

“All he does is be mean and boring all day. People don’t like that.” He heard Ivy start whining. “And why does he have a volleyball in his room? It’s not as if that’s going to get him a spouse or something. At least I can make a living through sewing and stuff.”

“Maybe he’ll learn to get a job by cooking for us,” Anya said, and Yaku could hear the smile in her voice.

(He didn’t stay around to hear any more of their logic. It was put in stone: he would suffer at the hands of these people, and there was nothing he could have done about it. His stepfamily was sweet in front of others, his father was always on any side that wasn’t Yaku’s, and Miyagi had an infamous reputation for the uselessness of any of their child protective services.

Father also had many connections that would defend his innocence if Yaku said anything. After all, Father _did_ play nice as a merchant, to get more people on his side.)

It escalated from there. His stepsisters took away his comfortable, yet plain, clothes, and his shoes, putting him to work at the kitchen to cook and clean until he felt he was about to die at the end of each day. His stepmother approved of all of this; he wasn’t  her child after all. His father, being the most weak-willed man on Earth, agreed with everything she said. “Well aren’t you pretty?” Ivy ‘teased’ whenever he came out of the kitchen in his old, grey shirt and pants and wood shoes. “Wow, you could  totally be a prince in that!” She would then cackle, and that would lead to everyone else laughing.

Of course, he didn’t take all of this with acceptance. There were fights where he fought tooth and nail for some rest, or basic human rights. Yaku, despite everything, still had a fighter spirit.

But there comes a time in every abuse situation where trying would just get one hurt, where one lose the ability to fight any longer. A time where hope is lost, and where one realizes that there is nothing they could do. And during that time, the stab wounds of insults and ‘teasing’ turn into a slow poison, not hurting as badly and ignorable, but still as deadly. The burns he got from cooking or the dirty hands he got from sweeping the thousandth time became a normal part of his skin, and he got used to not going outside—his pride was too fragile to be seen outside in these clothes.

All in all, he got used to abuse. And that was the most terrifying thing of all.

—————————

The kitchen was downstairs, while the attic was upstairs. Yaku grew tired of having to go up and down and up and down all the time. What was the logical thing to do in this case? Make a bed for himself in the kitchen, and go to the attic only for naps and alone time.

There was no where else to sleep but the fireplace; the kitchen was too crowded with tables and cupboards to sleep anywhere else. The sleep he got wasn’t great—there is so much a pillow and blanket could do to combat a stone floor— but it was better than the work he had to do all day.

(There was _cleaning_ and _washing_ and _cooking_ and _ironing_ and _folding_ and laundry and dusting...)

His stepsisters did everything to annoy him, from scattering lentils into the fireplace ashes he had to sweep, to scattering dresses everywhere, to complaining about the food as they shoveled it down their throats. 

One day, as he was dusting Ivy’s room, he overheard them giggling outside the door. 

Despite everything...he was curious. Therefore, he went over to the door and pretended to dust things he had already dusted.

“Isn’t Yaku Cinderella?” Ivy said, her nasally voice making Yaku cringe. “Like he does a shit ton of the work, he’s a fucking pushover, and he’s poor. And we’re his stepsisters, and Mom hates him.”

“No, no, no. That would mean he’ll get a happy ending, and we don’t, Ivy. Dumbass.”

“Anya!”

“Besides, we aren’t abusing him.” Yaku would have very much liked to say otherwise, but he couldn’t have revealed he was eavesdropping. “And he’s plain and ugly. Cinderella is pretty as hell.”

“He still gets all of those ashes on him however. It’s so idiotic of him to sleep on the fireplace of all things!” Ivy said, giggling like a little girl. It could have been endearing, but this was Ivy.

“Fine. He’s Cinderella then.”

And so they called him Cinderella after that. It was enough that Yaku was sure they forgot his name, and they, with absolute certainty, forgot his first name. That was the only good thing that came out of them calling him Cinderella; no matter what, even if he got slapped, no one was allowed call him Morisuke.

(Only his mother was allowed to do that. From any other pair of lips, it would be wrong.

It sounded so strange, but his mother’s death took much out of him. Yaku was what he was going to be known as for the rest of his life, even by any potential lovers. Yaku would make sure of that.)

———————————---------

He didn’t talk to his friends for a straight year.

Once he had been swamped with work and  more work and  more guilt-tripping from his family, the visits he gave to Nekoma village became less and less frequent. Before he knew it, the only interactions he had with anyone, by the end of fall the year his stepfamily came, were chance encounters, with a quick exchanging of words. 

The worst thing? He could feel the concern coming off of his friends in waves. Kuroo, in those days, didn’t joke as much, his eyebrows creased and hair ruffled from worry. He would, when there was a quiet place, corner Yaku and ask what was wrong, “Why are you so tired all of the time?”, “Why do you feel guilty coming to visit us?”, among other questions. “Is your family bad? Why do you snap so much?”

Kai was calm, as his natural self was, but he hung around Yaku more. He gave him more hugs, more things, more blankets for cold nights, as a silent way of concern. “Things will pass, I just wanted you to know that,” Kai would say, and Yaku would pull his knees up to hug them, defending himself from pity.

Shibayama complimented him more. Inuoka payed extra attention to him. Yamamoto was even more exuberant and teased him more, but with a softer feel than before.

Hinata didn’t question anything, but he did ask if he could give Yaku some clothes. Mr. Hinata allowed Yaku to have monthly appointments and not weekly ones, but his eyes were sad when Yaku left his house.

The worst of the pity party was Kenma. He had a face that never changed from its bored state, even in times of distress, but Yaku could tell. Kenma stood closer to him, wasn't as sarcastic,  _ made small talk _ _of all things_ —

Kenma  did _not_ make small talk.

Pity didn’t settle well in Yaku’s stomach. It left a horrible stirring in his stomach, and his emotions turned to an uproar.

He cut off everyone. 

It was the biggest mistake of his life.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see Yaku's daily routine, and he meets someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so scared of posting this entire fanfic (especially cause abuse is a serious topic that shouldn't be misrepresented, and I know that for sure) but I'll be brave! Besides, this *is* the first draft, and I'll make Yaku's abuse much more evident in the final version of this story (once I actually finish it of course).
> 
> Also, have I mentioned that I'm just pantsing this entire fanfic? Like, I have not planned anything out, and I'm just going by what my imagination is telling me ahahahah
> 
> I like every part (keyword: every PART), but I don’t like how I fit each section in this together. No section in this fits together, in my opinion.

It was a year after his stepfamily came, and Yaku woke up in the fireplace, his clothes stained with soot. 

He groaned. It was still dark outside, as it was about five am. He should have gotten used to the darkness by now—it had been a straight year—but he missed the light that used to shine through his old bedroom windows. Now though, he woke up before dawn to start the day, or, rather, work.

His entire life was work, to be honest. 

He dusted the soot off off his clothes; no matter how much he covered his small body in his blanket, it always made it to his hair and skin. With a quick, quiet shower and use of the bathroom sink upstairs—all done in secret, to not get  another thing taken away from him—he dressed himself.

(Well, not really. He always wore the same thing everyday: old grey shirts and pants with stains, paired with a pair of wooden shoes.)

His shoes pinched his toes as he put them on, and Yaku wondered if he had a growth spurt for once in his sixteen year existence for a split second, before shaking his head at those strange thoughts.

As usual, he made the fires and cooked up something for his family. As this was the only real “choice” he had in his entire routine, seeing that he would be insulted no matter what he made—therefore allowing him to cook anything and everything—this was an important decision.

After a few seconds, he decided on bread paired with noodle soup. He hadn’t made noodles in a while.

As he boiled up water and put noodles inside the soup and prepared it, the sunlight through the tiny, black, rusted window panes shone in tiny strokes, lapping at his feet and coming down in lines across his face. He ran around a lot, doing laundry and reading a book for school at the same time, with the kitchen counters grazing him every once in a while. He also cleaned up some lentils from the fireplace for 'breakfast'--Ivy and Anya may had thrown them in the ashes to mess with him, but he wasn't going to waste food, no matter how disgusting lentils tasted. To be honest, he was sure that Ivy and Anya wasted money on lentils for the _sole purpose_ of making him work harder.

Even though mornings were stressful, with him waking before daybreak and making breakfast for his family and trying to eat something himself, it was a great deal better than evenings. Evenings were when Yaku had to hear every little thing the twins said and had to deal with a great deal of whining and ‘tricks’ that made his life harder than it already was.

At least, in the morning, it was quiet. It was a heaven-sent gift that his entire family loved sleeping to death. Yaku didn’t like the dread that came with a new day—again, evenings—but at least school started. School was a great excuse to not have to be with his family a better part of a year.

Yaku then realized, right as he was  plating , that it was his birthday. August eighth. How could he have forgotten? 

He then stopped being so excited about it. The chances of getting anything on his birthday—even acknowledgement—were low. And he wouldn’t even know what to want for his birthday. Anything he wanted was ‘selfish’, so why even bother?

If only there were wish giving trees. The thought popped into his head all of a sudden, and he chastised himself for thinking such imaginative things. He still restrained a smile, however. 

He took the breakfast trays and went upstairs, the tinkling of water and juice glasses ringing and ringing. It was about seven in the morning and, if he was lucky, he would only have to be quiet and not have to deal with his sisters.

Stepmother was sleeping, so he put her tray down and went to Ivy’s room. He wasn’t as lucky there, however. 

“Hey Cinderella. Put down the trays. We’re going to talk, and you’re not invited!” Ivy said, patting Anya’s head. They were on Ivy’s bed, covered in a mound of blankets. 

Yaku took great care in plying the blankets off, despite complaints. “Just put down the trays!” Ivy whined.

“It’s summer, Ivy, Anya. It’s horrible to suffocate yourselves like this.”

“Wow, are you our mom?” Anya said. Yaku sighed; one of these days, he will stop being considered a mother, but it wasn’t today. “Give us our food.”

He put both trays down, doing a quick bow. “Hope you two enjoy it,” he said, to be polite. The onslaught was coming, and he knew it.

“Noodles? Seriously, Cinderella? Who the fuck eats noodles in the morning?” Ivy said, taking her chopsticks. Once she put some noodles in her mouth, she started shoveling it down her throat at a quick rate. “Like seriously, what the fuck—“

“ Don’t choke!” Yaku said. He was aware that his stepsisters will never tell him his food was good, and they’ll likely deny it even when they shoved it down their throats. They’d take it to their graves if they could. “Eat slow!”

“Fucking obviously,” Anya said, even though she wasn’t taking her own advice. “God, Cinderella, just stop being a parent for once and be our servant brother, okay?”

The last sentence was paired with a glare...that was ruined by the drops of soup that lingered on Anya’s mouth. Yaku bit his lip to stop laughter from coming up—Anya would throw a bowl at him, if he did. It would be troublesome to clean up all the pieces and food.

Plus, it might wake up his stepmother. It would be inevitable, from there, that Anya would lie and say it was Yaku. And, no matter how much he had gotten used to fearing his home, no person alive could ever match the dangerous aura his stepmother emitted.  _No one._

He left, and, after leaving food for Father, went to school.

—————————

School was a different sort of hell. Home—if it could be called a home—was full of whining and exhaustion and a constant fear of his stepmother, including homework.

School was a hellhole of people calling him short and serious, and he was alone most of his days. 

It may not have seemed much—many people could go through the above with little struggle—but it meant something to Yaku. 

Ever since he was born, people had commented on his height and lack of growth. “You’re so short!” “Are you sure this isn’t a nine-year-old?” ”Hey, little kid, are you lost?”

(The people that confused him for a middle-schooler were  the _worst_.)

His shortness was commented on to the point where Yaku had to get used to it, or, otherwise, get in detention a whole lot for kicking people in the shins. After all, once people start commenting on a particular trait, a person  will  start to be insecure about that trait. That is a fact.

As for his seriousness...people really didn’t get his tendency to take things too seriously, or why he felt the overwhelming sense to take care of others. They never got why he hurried around with tissues, or critiqued their bad habits, or gave them overly detailed advice, or told them to do certain things. It was all for their own good—Yaku did those sorts of things with good things in mind—and he didn’t mean to get overbearing. He didn’t mean to drive people away.

It also seemed to confuse or shock people when they found out the little, five-foot teen was more mature than some adults. To them, size meant maturity—that was the impression Yaku got from them, at least. And he  hated the way people would underestimate him because of his size, the way that their eyes would widen to comical extents when he showed off his sports or self defense skills, or offhandedly mention his grades.People would then scream—not yell,  scream —“Oh my god, you can do that? But you’re so small! You look so innocent!”

Yaku hated it with his whole heart. Again, it wasn’t as if he  didn’t know that his insecurities were pathetic sounding. To other people, he knew that, if he were to ever reveal those sorts of insecurities, he would be told that he was over-reacting.

But, again, if people keep pointing out a trait, one will get self-conscious of that trait.

—————---------

On the walk home, where he took his sweet time—his family never had to know how much he wished he could avoid them—Yaku did his homework, scribbling down some numbers.

His mind went to many places, from wondering if he was nice enough to fit Mother’s expectations, to whether he should go to tutoring the next day. The walk home was nice, allowing Yaku’s thoughts to take a break for once in his existence. Dirt crumbled under his old boots, and he dragged his hand along the smooth curves of a wooden fence. 

He knew he should walk faster. He knew the Nekoma villagers—especially his former friends—liked to run around this area for sports practice. He knew that, even though they went to a different school than him.

He couldn’t meet them again. The shame, guilt...it would pile on him like a stack of bricks. He was _such_ a immature person a year ago.

He shook his head. This walk was supposed to be peaceful, not stressful.

After a while, Yaku took a deep breath, gazing up at the hill that lead to his house.

It was old, yet decently sized enough; there was enough room on the grounds for a pigeon coop, a garden with trees, and the mansion. The stone walls were chipped, and the red roof had tiles that had severe wear and tear. The chimney looked as if it was going to fall over any second, and the only thing that looked alive was the garden. Aka the place that Yaku took care of any time he could.

In the middle of summoning courage to go in there and face more abuse (and lentils in the ashes to pick out, if Anya and Ivy decided to be particularly annoying that day), he heard running footsteps from behind him. He turned around...

And got smacked in the face. Being knocked over, he gazed up to see if the other person was okay. 

Only...

His eyes saw a red trench coat. Black pants. A soft face. Specifically, one with cat-like brown eyes. One with blond hair, with brown roots.

_ Oh no. _

_ “KENMA?" _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters are going to be exposition chapters, so you’ll be left on a cliffhanger for a real long time lol
> 
> Coming up: Suga, Kenma, and Ushijima and Tendou a little later. Also, Lev and Alisa.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a break from Yaku and Sugawara gets introduced as a centuries-old, shapeshifting white crow who's a fairy. Bet you've never seen that sentence before!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sugawara is important. I promise!
> 
> After all, this is the Grimms version of Cinderella.
> 
> Also Elibe, if you’re reading this, I’m so sorry for Sugawara and Kenma’s dialogue (and general characterization) in this chapter. They sound like robots. 😭 I’m also sorry for most of the story so far being hardcore exposition. We’ll get to the three night ball someday.

_ A week before Kenma met Yaku... _

There was  something weird about Shouyou’s friend. 

Sugawara always took care of the entirety of Karasuno village like he was its guardian, and he always had a smile on his face that welcomed people from all walks of life.His skin was smooth and paler than the moon, and his silver hair was neat and polished. A mole was on his cheek, bringing out his pretty brown eyes. He was known as a nice, yet stern, person.

Karasuno loved him.

Every time Kenma saw him, his magic went into overdrive, with random objects coming in and out of existence. It was as if his magic had come alive, wanting—no,  _needing_ —to be let out around Suga. It was uncontrollable, and Kenma soon had to tell Shouyou about it.

(Shouyou was understanding, as he always was.)

The magic aura around Sugawara was intense—Kenma could tell that from a mile away. No one else saw this—people who could use magic were far and in between—but Kenma had a feeling Suga wasn’t a human. His suspicions were proven correct when he told Shouyou about it.

“Ah, Suga told me he was a shapeshifter!” He said a year ago, his twelve-year-old legs almost trembling with excitement. This was after Kenma had been introduced to Sugawara. “Isn’t it cool? He can turn into so many things!”

“It is cool,” Kenma said. He didn’t tell Shouyou about the fact that Suga’s magical powers were beyond a normal shapeshifter, or about how many trickster beings could shapeshift. 

So he observed. He observed for an entire year. Suga always disappeared into thin air after he was talking with anyone. No one seemed to know where his house was. “He never told us,” people would say. He knew things people never told him. Suga would hang around the magical “Fairy Death” forest more than any normal teen.

Eventually, one day. Kenma caught sight of Suga changing into a white crow—one with a black dot under its eye, if he may add—at the edge of the forest. After a year of watching—and healing from Yaku’s abandonment of the 'Nekoma Group'—Kenma got results.

“Who’s there?” Sugawara said, words coming out of his beak. The bird then sighed. “Oh well. You have caught me...Kenma?”

Kenma came out of the bushes, his invisibility cloak—given by his mother—falling to the ground. “Sorry, Sugawara-san. I just needed to know what exactly you are.”

“Well, you have been suspicious of me from the very beginning, so I can’t fault you,” Sugawara said, flapping his wings. He changed back into a human, and wrung his hands up in the air, shrugging. He smoothed down his tan outfit. “So, what do you wish to know?”

The generic phrase that every fairy said, once they have been found out. Huh. “Are you a fairy, Sugawara-san?”

“Yes.” Sugawara smiled, a playful smile growing on his face. He used a bit of magic to twirl a piece of Kenma’s hair. “You could have asked a better question than that, Kenma-san. It was obvious when I said that phrase, huh?”

“I know.” Kenma said, keeping a strong hold on his hair and red blouse. Suga was a fairy, huh? Explained the power radiating from him...and Suga’s jokester tendencies. “Where were you going?”

“Well...” A blush grew on Sugawara’s face. “My mate and I had found a small, magical forest near the forests between Miyagi and the country of Tokyo, just a few hours from here.”

“A small magical forest?” Kenma never heard of one between Miyagi and Tokyo. 

“It’s newly made. By another fairy!” Sugawara said. “Fairy Oikawa decided to make one a decade ago, and grew it himself, despite seer-fairy Ushijima saying otherwise. It’s quite pretty, and the communication trees finally grew to great heights too!”

Fairy Oikawa...the playboy fairy that played tricks on many women, and the one who could rot a forest in a second with his earth magic, if Kenma remembered correctly. 

Everyone knew seer-fairy Ushijima. There was no forgetting him. The leader of everyone, with more power than kings.

Communication trees? He should have not asked too much, but at the same time...fairies had to answer any question asked of them after being found out, and Kenma  was going to take advantage of that.“What are communication trees?” Kenma asked, a bit curious.

Suga chuckled. “You’re one of the only humans I’ve met that ask lots of  innocent questions.” Before Kenma could ask what that meant, Suga said, “Communication trees are for guardian-fairies like me, who need to be summoned by their ward.”

“So you...take care of people?”

“People who need it,” Sugawara corrected. “And all I do is give wishes to people who say a particular phrase.”

“What do you mean?”

Suga smiled yet again. He went to sit on a log a few feet away from him, and motioned for Kenma to sit next to him. “We’re going to be here a while, huh?”

It was a truth that Kenma wished to know more about his magical heritage, but he didn’t want to sit close to another person either. Besides, being fifteen, he didn’t know much about fairies or the tricks they played. So he sat himself on the other edge of the log.

“Smart.” Suga commented. “And to answer your question...” He took a deep breath in. “Guardian fairies have to...well... be a guardian  to a human, helping them out. Specifically, keeping a human alive. We’re supposed to help our ward, granting wishes and making their lives better until the ward doesn’t need it.”

Kenma took it in. That sort of job...it seemed nice.

“Thing is, guardian fairies need communication devices to be able to help at a moment’s notice. Since no one can read minds. Things like communication trees—or com trees, if we are to be simpler—make it so, if the ward says a specific phrase, they’ll be able to get our help.” Suga scratched his head. “The phrase is different to every guardian fairy.

“Basically, a guardian fairy will make their home in a tree and call one particular branch theirs. Then, once said branch is broken off, the fairy will bond themselves to a person who needs help. In human form, they will test to see if the person is good, and then tell the person what specific phrase to say to summon them.” Sugawara stopped talking, taking a deep breath in. He looked a little panicked. “Sorry, am I making sense?”

“Yes,” Kenma said, not knowing what else to say. He didn’t really get what Suga said, but if it comforted a nervous Sugawara, it was okay. “So then, you grant wishes to your ward?”

“Yes!” After being reassured, Sugawara came back to his smiley self. “And help with other problems too. In human form, we become their friend if they are lonely, or need convincing to get help.”

“Okay.” Kenma said. “Who’s your ward? Karasuno?”

Suga laughed. “If only!” Then he settled down, his eyes dropping down to the floor. “But no. I don’t have one. I hadn’t had one for a decade.”

“Oh.” Kenma said. Sugawara’s shoulders dropped, and Kenma knew he said something wrong. 

Thinking about it, it  was Sugawara’s job to take care of people. If he wasn’t doing that, then he was a failure, and he was empty, and undeserving. That was likely to be Suga’s thought process. 

“So that’s why you want to live in the ‘com’ trees?”

“...Yes.”

There was a silence, one that Kenma couldn’t fill—he never understood people like Kuroo, who always knew what to say. This wouldn’t be the last time he cursed his inability to gain social skills, nor his silent demeanor.

“Sorry, that was heavy, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t be sorry.”

“Still...” Sugawara said. “ Anyway , just...tell me if you have someone who needs help and I can make arrangements, yeah?”

Sugawara said that with his shiny, pearly-white smile, as if he didn’t want to talk about his insecurities. Kenma could understand that. Kenma didn’t like talking in general, and heavy topics were the devil to him. In a way, Kenma and Suga were just like...

Yaku.

Kenma remembered his friend—they hadn’t talkedfor more than a year after Yaku had stormed off, never to return to Nekoma village. No one came after him because no one knew where he lived, seeing that Yaku’s house was  far inside the countryside. It didn’t help that Yaku would run like the wind whenever anyone saw him.

Besides, school and life and everything got in the way of seeing Yaku again. It didn’t help that Kuroo’s parents, who were law enforcement and therefore the most helpful, didn't try to use their power to help their son.

“Kenma, are you okay?” Suga said, waving a hand in front of his face. “Don’t feel so guilty, if you are. It’s okay—“

“I was just thinking.” Kenma said while playing with his magic, trying to control it as it flickered and bickered with him. Then, and this came out of his mouth for no reason, he said, “I have a person in mind.”

“For what?”

Kenma stopped talking. Was it a good idea, to give Sugawara possible false hope? Yaku was a stubborn force, and he  could refuse any sort of help whatsoever because of ‘pity’. And there was no access to Yaku now.

Then again, Yaku was the one spoiling Kenma in secret a year ago, as if Kenma was his adopted child. And Yaku always relented when a smirking Kuroo asked to carry him on his back, back in the day. There was also the constant food he bought them—specifically, the favorite foods of each person in their old friend group—despite comments on how unhealthy some of the food was. The apple pie Yaku made for Kenma’s birthday was the best thing he had ever tasted, too.

If Yaku gave in so much back in those days, why wouldn’t he give in now? Of course, Yaku hadn’t talked to another for the past year, but...he had a soft heart. Kenma could remember him talking about old childhood friends, that had likely gone on with their lives, like it was  just yesterday his five-year-old self had played with them. There was a light in his eyes, and a shine that wasn’t nostalgic. No, it was happy, and Yaku talked of wanting to talk to those old friends, of wanting to see how they were doing.

If he still cared for people from a decade ago, then he would still care for Kenma. He would still care for Shouyou, and Kuroo, and Kai, and Shibayama, and Yamamoto. He would still care, and he would still allow them to have influence over him.

“I have a friend that could need help. I have suspicions.” Kenma said that after a long time. “I haven’t talked to him in a while though. And he might refuse help.”

“Really?” Sugawara said, a bit too loudly to be normal. He closed his mouth, realizing how excited it made him. “I mean, you’ll do that for me?”

“Again, he might refuse help,” Kenma said.  He wasn’t really sure how they got here, from him finding out Sugawara was a fairy to...whatever this was. But at the same time, there was no backing out now. “It’s just a chance to get a ward.”

“I get it Kenma.” Sugawara said, still looking to not get his hopes up too much. “But you’ll do that for me?”

“...Sure. Any friend of Shouyou is worth talking to.” Kenma said that with his head down to the ground, looking anywhere but at Sugawara’s eyes. It was too embarrassing to say another half of the truth—that Sugawara was nice, didn’t force him to talk, and that made Suga a good person in Kenma’s eyes. And another part of the truth was also too embarrassing—the fact that Kenma didn’t like to see anyone upset.

Sugawara sat there for a little bit, before smiling in that knowing way, as if he could already see what Kenma wanted to leave out. Then Kenma realized how long they had been talking; how, despite the fact that Sugawara was a fairy and fairies didn’t like being asked questions they were magically obliged to answer, Suga never once complained about being asked so many questions. 

Before Kenma could think on it further, Sugawara said, “Thanks, Kenma.” Then, the smile slipped off of his face and got replaced with a shiny grin, one so pretty, it was almost painful to look at. “If that friend accepts, tell them, if they go through the new forest, to break off the first twig that brushes up against their hat. That’s how they’ll find me.”

Kenma nodded. To any other person, what Sugawara had said made no sense, but magic-welding people knew. People with magic, and fairies in general, had certain...sixth-senses, of a sort. Ones that told them where to be, what to do, and what to choose. Sugawara had those sixth senses, as a fairy, and Kenma knew that those senses would make him choose the  exact branch that would brush up against Yaku’s hat.

So therefore, that declaration made perfect sense to Kenma.

“Okay.” 

Sugawara smiled, rising up from his seat on the log. “Are you done asking questions yet? I’m sorry but you know...I have places to be.” 

“Yes.” Kenma said. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, Kenma,” Sugawara said, patting his head. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. “You were a lot nicer than a lot of other people, when they discovered me.”

Kenma then concluded that Sugawara had seen too many bad people in his fairy existence. Therefore, he allowed Sugawara to pet his head, and he had the feeling Sugawara wanted to be a guardian to people—in this parental way he was doing right then—for a long time.

“Well, goodbye Kenma.” And with that, Sugawara turned into his white crow form, and flew into the sky. Kenma gazed at the patch of sky where Sugawara disappeared, and sighed.

How did he allow himself to make promises he couldn’t possibly keep? Stupid emotions.

Well, if Sugawara was going to get a ward, Kenma was going to have to try to find a certain, brown-eyed teen named Yaku.

Kenma sighed. This was going to be too much work.

But he was going to do it anyway.

He walked out of the forest, grass crumbling under his feet, and wondered if he should get the others in on the Yaku hunt.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ushijima as a seer is the thing you never knew you needed, and Lev gets introduced for the first time (FINALLY).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This, I feel, is one of my favorite chapters, for some reason. Maybe it’s just the fact that Ushijima and Lev, 2 of my favorite characters, are introduced here.
> 
> I love Wakatoshi so much ❤️

_ A decade before Sugawara talked with Kenma... _

The Seer, as the other fairies called him, sat on his throne, waiting for the royal family to arrive. He, after all, had to see into the future of their child, Prince Lev.

Ushijima’s eyes glazed over with visions of the futures of every child, every baby, and every person that had ever lived, swimming in front of him. Tsukishima was going to have his first kiss with someone soon, Hana was going to get a job as a baker, Konoha was going to be a technician in the royal court. Details on everything passed by him though. 

His future sight was strange. It was like little films of the future, where names and jobs and flashes of people were seen, but all of the images overlapped each other, demanding his attention. If Ushijima didn’t see quick enough, he wouldn’t be able to see who kissed who, or who killed the now king, or how a future book ended. As soon as one ‘film’ popped up in front of him, another film would overlap the first film, and another would cover up that one, and so on.

(In short, dear reader, it was as if his entire line of vision—including peripheral vision—was filled with annoying pop-up ads.)

He was used to this constant annoyance though. He couldn’t really see anything outside of his visions, but it was better than hiding them away, to store in his head. If he stored them in his head for too long—even to just talk to someone for a few seconds—his mind wouldn’t be able to store so much information. He would become overwhelmed and his head would feel like hell.

He knew that from experience.

“Ushiwaka-chan! I need to ask something.” 

Ah, the voice of Oikawa. Ushijima didn’t like it—it grated on his strong nerves, and was too loud. It didn’t help that Oikawa poked fun at his seer abilities too much. The only two good things that came out of Oikawa’s existence was...

  1. His skill at growing plants, and controlling the earth in general. There was no one better, and even Ushijima knew that. Even better, Oikawa worked hard to get such power, and that was respectable in Ushijima’s eyes.
  2. Iwaizumi, one of the best soldiers the fairy kingdom had seen in a while. 



Ushijima saw the future: Oikawa was going to ask if he could make a forest of communication trees, and, obviously, Ushijima was going to refuse that. There was a certain danger in making a forest for guardian fairies in areas trespassed often by humans; the fairy world did  not need to face the wrath of humans yet again. No, it would take a fool of a fairy to suggest that sort of thing. 

He also saw Oikawa’s explanation: guardian fairies needed more work. And it was true that guardian fairies needed work—it had been a problem in the fairy community for a long time now, especially because of the distrust of humans—but it was  stupid  to build such a large forest.

“You know, why should I even say anything? You’ve already seen what I was about to say, so why bother?” Oikawa said, in the flippant way trickster fairies talk. “So, Ushiwaka-chan?”

“Don’t call me ‘Ushiwaka-chan’,” Ushijima said, in air quotes. Oikawa laughed. As Oikawa laughed, Ushijima saw Terushima hugging a boy named Shinji in joy, the birth of a person’s child, and a boy named Kenji being left alone in the woods. “And no, I will not let you build that forest.”

The rest of the conversation went as fate planned; Oikawa brought up points for his argument, and Ushijima shut every single one of them down. Ushijima knew what words would come out of his mouth, and Oikawa’s too, and he said them, as if he had rehearsed them.

No one had that much control over fate. Ushijima knew that, and he accepted that. And, despite Oikawa fighting with every bone in his body to prove Ushijima wrong, Oikawa was in fate’s control too. His fighting against fate...was fate. Oikawa trying to catch Ushijima off guard was fate.

There was no fighting against fate, to Ushijima.

That was why, even though he knew Oikawa was going to go against his wishes, he let Oikawa go stomping out of the throne room. Oikawa was going to make that forest. There was nothing Ushijima could do about it.

Or, at least, that was his thought process.

He sighed. Knowing the fates of everyone and anyone that had ever lived was tiring. He was only eighteen—in appearance, at least— and he felt as if the entire world was on his shoulders. And now, in a few hours, with a ceremony, he had to tell the prophecy of a prince. 

His face was kept straight. Visions of kissing couples, dying men, and gruesome scenes flashed before him, and he took note of none of it. All unimportant people. It sounded cruel, but everyone was unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

And then he saw one vision, that caught his eye. There was a white crow, with a dot under its eye, flying to a hazel tree branch, to a boy named Ya—

And then the vision was gone, replaced by insignificant ones. He didn’t get the full name of the boy he saw—the one with light brown hair and nut-brown eyes—but Ushijima has a sense he was going to be important. In what way, he wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to question it.

He checked out his peripheral vision while it wasn’t covered up by visions. Fairies skittered around, making sure everything was in place for the ceremony. People were cleaning walls, windows. Candles and fairy insignias were carved into the patch of dirt on the floor, where Oikawa used to stand—Oikawa never thought that storming out would make the poor servants have to clean that up, huh? 

His thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice and a familiar tap on his arm. “Wakatoshi-kun! Wakatoshi-kun!”

Ah, Satori. He relaxed his shoulders. This time, there were no visions of how their conversation would unfold—Satori was the living embodiment of unpredictability, in personality and as a special kind of trickster fairy. That is, a spectra fairy, named for the wide spectrum of things that could happen when they were in a situation.

Spectra fairies had the jobs meant to mess up Ushijima’s visions: they were supposed to cause chaos and disruption to the strings of fate, and make things interesting. Therefore, Ushijima could not see any spectra fairy’s future. 

“So, what’s with the frowny face, hmm? I heard Oikawa was here. He looked pissed on the way out, but you don’t seem fazed, so everything will be okay, I bet on it! Did he affect you?” Satori rambled on and on, standing on the balls of his feet. “What’s the new scoop on futures? Anything new you want to talk about? If you don’t want to talk, then can I talk about this new story I’ve got stirring? I think it’ll become a bestseller when I release it in human form!”

“Oikawa was in here, and he didn’t affect me at all,” Ushijima said, being honest. He went on to answer the other questions. “I’m frowning because I have seen too many visions for the day. You can talk about your new story, but I do wish to share a couple of visions.”

Satori whistled. “Really? Tell me about them, miracle boy.”

“I do not cause miracles, Satori.” Satori laughed when Ushijima said that, as he always did, and Ushijima wondered what was so funny. It was true: he didn’t cause miracles.

“You’re still my miracle boy,” Satori said, smiling ear to ear. Ushijima’s heart—not his face—smiled. “Anyway, what’s the scoop? Any drama? What about the child prince that’s coming here later?”

“I know nothing on him, so far. That will wait until the ceremony later, and you know that, Satori.”

Upon hearing his name, Satori smiled even more, if that was possible. “I love my name coming from you!” With that outburst, he went on with the topic. “And I was just wondering. You’re such a powerful guy, you know? If you got, I don’t know, pre-visions or something, I wouldn’t be surprised. And it’s not as if there is a lot of spectra fairy blood in the royal family of Miyagi, nowadays. That spectra fairy fucked a king, like, what? A few centuries ago?”

“Six centuries ago.”

“Yeah, whatever. So I thought that maybe you could start seeing visions of the royal family cause there’s so little spectra blood left.”

“No, Satori. As long as the royal family shall live, I shall never see their futures.”

“Yeah. I get that.” Satori waves a dismissive hand. If it were anyone else, it would have been disrespectful, but with Satori, it was how he was. “ But,  let’s get on with the  juicy stuff. What’s interesting? And maybe...”—Satori put on a charming smile—“Maybe give some names for me?”

“No, Satori.” Ushijima said, as always. Satori pouted on cue, and Ushijima’s heart smiled yet again. He was head seer, and, as a part of the job, wasn’t allowed to give out information that could mess up fate. Therefore, he shouldn’t have allowed Satori, or any spectra, to be anywhere around him.

But the truth was...it was lonely being a person who could see what happened to everyone and anyone. It was lonely being in such an important position at his age. And it was nice to talk to someone without knowing what their cause of death would be. 

So he allowed himself to be  a little  rebellious on that point. Maybe Satori was rubbing off on him. 

“No names, huh? Oh well.”

“Do you wish to know of my visions?”

“Oh, of course, Wakatoshi-kun!”

And so they talked. Ushijima didn’t know exactly what Satori would be in the future, nor what he would  be to Ushijima in the future, but...

It would be nice, to have Satori by his side.

——————-

Lev was cold in the carriage. Night time was  so cold in Miyagi.

Alisa, the best-est big sister ever, held him in her lap, hugging him til his limbs felt warm again. It wasn’t too hard; her body, held a four-year-old quite snuggly.

“Lyovochka, are you excited?”

“Yeah!” Lev pumped a fist in the air, his silk glove almost flying off. “It’s so cold though, Alisa...”

“Come here, I’ll hug you a little more.” Lev shuffled himself into her lap, and Alisa made sure to smooth out any wrinkles. Mom and Dad told her it was important. _“The fairies need to know we respect them,”_ they had said.

Alisa wasn’t exactly sure how a few wrinkles meant disrespect, but apparently, humans and fairies didn’t like each other very much. That was how Mom explained it.

“I have a good future ahead for me,” she started, putting on her best narrator voice. Lev turned to her, his face enraptured. “ My prophecy says  _‘Queen she shall be/ And prosperity will be had._ ’ Do you know what that means, Lyovochka?”

“Tell me, tell me!” Lev said, bouncing on her knee, even though he knew the answer. Alisa let out a laugh that vibrated her entire body, and Lev laughed too.

“That means that I’ll be a great queen, Lev!”

“That’s so cool!”

“I know, right?” Alisa said. She hugged his arms, feeling Lev’s velvet waistcoat and silk coat.  Still unbuttoned coat , she realized, as she started buttoning up her brother’s coat.

“Will I be like you too, Alisa? With a good fortune?” Lev asked, his big green eyes being just as innocent looking as hers. 

“Of course! You’re the sweetest little brother!” Alisa said. She started tickling Lev under the arms and he laughed hysterically. “Yes you are! Yes you are!”

“Stop! Stop!” Lev laughed out. The both of them were giggling like schoolgirls. It was a wonder their parents didn’t hear them from the front of the carriage. “ _Alisa_!”

“Okay, okay,” Alisa said, stopping. Lev still giggled for a good minute or so afterwards though, which got her smiling too. 

The carriage went to a complete stop, and Lev would have been thrown off of his seat if he weren’t in Alisa’s lap. There was a few murmurs, and then...”Sorry! We’re at the fairy portal though!”

“Finally!” Lev said. He jumped out of Alisa’s lap, and Alisa smoothed out her puffy dress and fur coat before holding him back. “Alisa, can we  pleeeeaaaase go out now?”

“We have to wait for the door to open, and then be escorted out, Lyovochka. That is what we royalty have to do,” she said. She got a pout in response, which made her smile a little. Her little brother was so cute. Especially bouncing on the balls of his feet like that. “I know right? We can exit by ourselves.”

“Your majesties,” said the coachman, opening the door to let them outside. Lev and Alisa went down, Alisa lifting up her white skirts and Lev brushing off invisible dirt off of his red and black outfit.  The coachman  bowed,  and the royalty bowed back, as was customary.

As they walked down a hill, night befalling them, Lev stayed close to Alisa, talking about anything and everything, and yet nothing at the same time. This was normal, and Alisa talked in the same way he did, to fill silence. One topic went to another, and then back again. 

When the siblings were as far from the other servants as possible, Lev motioned that he wanted to be picked up. Alisa picked him up, smoothing our her dress again, and he went to whisper in her ear. She pulled her long, silver hair out of the way. “Alisa, why are we called _‘your majesties_ ’?”

Lev said that last part in a faux, polite voice, and Alisa smiled. “We’re royalty. Again, Lyovochka, people think we’re high and mighty when we really aren’t.”

“Well, I’m not high and mighty!” Lev said. It was true; his clothes were in a constant state of disarray back at the castle from all the mischief he would do, and no one could have got mad at him for it, as he always gave a cheerful smile that made everyone forgive him. “Why does everyone think I’m amazing when I’m not? I’m not above anyone.”

“Again, Lev, it’s a matter of perception.” Alisa poked him on the nose. Lev’s pouty face turned into a giggly one so fast, it caused her whiplash. “ _You_ know you’re not above anyone.  If you think that, then everyone will think that too.”

Lev stared at her for a few seconds, and then giggled. “Okay, Alisa!”

“That’s my little brother!”

She kept carrying him all the way to the fairy realm’s portal.

———————-

The fairy realm was both what they thought it would be and  way more than they had ever imagined.

All of the humans were wowed and awed, even though the fairies thought nothing of it. The bright lights made from blue water orbs and the living vines that waved hello? They were nothing to the fairies, and it wasn’t understood why such normal things were so amazing to the humans.

Lev kept asking questions to their guide, Hanamaki, who answered all of them with a unrivaled patience. It helped that he joked around as much as he guided them through the humongous kingdom, which was a lot.

(It was only after the humans arrived at the palace that they were told that Hanamaki was a trickster fairy, the most dangerous kind, and the ones that could kill if they wanted to. Thankfully, Hanamaki had little temper, and Lev didn’t annoy him at all.)

The ceremony began immediately. The king and queen stood as close to Lev as they could get without fear of death; they did want to see what future their son would have, after all. Alisa also got a good, front-row seat to the ceremony, leaning forward.

“Lyovochka! Don’t be scared! I’ll be here if anything bad happens!” She yelled out to Lev, who was inside a circle of fairy insignias. Lev looked up, and waved with a grin. 

“Don’t worry! I’m not scared! I’m like a lion!” He puffed out his chest a little, and Alisa giggled a little. The fairies present thought this interaction a little odd, considering there were so many people, but they let it off. Lev was only four, after all. “I’ll get a good future, just like you!”

“You will! You deserve it!” Alisa yelled back. The king and queen shushed her, as the ceremony was about to begin.

Lev sat on his knees in the soil, as he was supposed to. Ushijima stepped down from his throne, and all was quiet.

The head seer stepped down marble stairs. He looked for people in the crowd. He saw Oikawa watching him—Ushijima knew he wished to know how to gain more power, and fate dictated that Ushijima would allow Oikawa to watch. He found Satori, who gave a wink and smile, as silent support. 

He glanced down at the boy below him, who was  tiny.  Ushijima, sure, had the body of a eighteen-year-old (though he was centuries old), but he didn’t realize how tiny four-year-olds could be.

He stopped, right at the edge of the line where soil and marble met.

“Lev Haiba, of the Royal Family of the kingdom of Miyagi, will you allow to be see into your future?”

(Fairies needed permission before ceremonies like these.)

“Of course!” Lev said, grinning up at him. This was strange. So many children had been scared of Ushijima, and how strict his face was on a daily basis.

Ushijima had the feeling this boy would have a...particularly  _interesting _future.

Ushijima couched down, and began the ceremony. This was the only time where he didn’t have to see the millions of futures of other people—only one, in this cause—and so he was going to savor it the best he could.

He held Lev’s head firmly in his hands, as magenta and sky blue magic swirled around them. Lev wanted to take a better look at them, but tried his best to close his eyes, as he was told to. The fairy insignias carved into the soil around Lev, full of images like flowers and vines and stars, started to glow pale yellow. It made the air warm, and the room, in an instant, turned as black as the darkest night sky.

Candles were lit, and placed near Lev and Ushijima. The magenta glow of the magic in the air was enchanting, a glowing neon light in the otherwise pitch black room. It lit up Ushijima’s and Lev’s faces, who were both still having their eyes closed. 

Ushijima did his best to focus on the boy in front of him, and put his forehead to Lev’s. Lev was closing his eyes as hard as he could, and Ushijima could tell he  really wanted—no,  _needed _—to open his eyes. 

_ Wait a few more seconds _ , Ushijima thought. Lev opened his eyes immediately in shock, and Ushijima then knew that the ceremony was working. His thoughts were connecting with Lev’s.

 _Close your eyes now._ With that, Lev closed his eyes.  _No matter what you hear or feel from this point, do not open your eyes. Only open your eyes when you feel me move away from you and float up._

 _I’ll try!_ Lev thought, and Ushijima nodded. That was the best a child his age could do. He used his magic to bond with the magic in Lev’s blood, with the spectra fairy blood. Visions flashed across the insides of his eyelids, and he used all of the power in him to focus on only a few. His fingers gripped the sides of Lev’s head in the process, making the boy yelp in pain for a second. 

A warm yellow glow surrounded the two, swirling and swirling. Ushijima finally knew what was to happen to Lev, exactly what his future was to be, but his mouth wasn’t his anymore. No, his mouth belonged to his future vision, and his future vision would say the prophecy for Ushijima.

His body glowed yellow and Ushijima opened his eyes, brown eyes replaced by pure, pale yellow light. He floated up, until he was halfway up to the ceiling, and Lev opened his eyes. He let out an excited noise at the sight before him—Ushijima looked like a god, with his magenta robes being blown by non-existent winds and the yellow glow. Or perhaps a demon, to be more accurate.

“Lev Haiba,” Ushijima started. No, actually, it wasn’t even Ushijima at all; it was something entirely inhuman taking over his body. His voice didn’t sound normal at all. “Are you sure you want to know your prophecy, for better or for worse?”

“Yes!” Lev yelled out, grinning wider than a human should. He was tempted to jump up from his spot—his knees were starting to hurt  bad —but he wasn’t going to get out of this palace without his fortune read.

People trembled at the sight of such a powerful being before a tiny, human child. Alisa was scared, and it took her parents’ iron grip on her to stop her from protecting her brother. Lev was still smiling though, more serene than he had ever been, as if having a godlike fairy before him was a normal occurrence that didn’t need to be noted. He was more fearless of what was in front of him than many adults.

“Very well,” ‘Ushijima’ said. His body started spasming, and Lev was half tempted to ask if he was okay, but he was cut off by the prophecy, booming from Ushijima’s lips like strikes of thunder.

_ “ A person in penury of the worst kind/ _

_ With hidden secrets and lies/ _

_ Will seduce this prince, the one with a childish mind/ _

_ Like no other, and enrapture him, and be hidden from him/ _

_ Until the nights of three/ _

_ And they will be married on the day the prince becomes a man/ _

_ In which chaos would spread across the land.” _

A few people gasped, and a select few laughed. Why, for the latter? They hadn’t heard such a bad future in a long time, and they selfishly wanted some chaos to go on in the human world.

Alisa wasn’t sure why her parents gripped her shoulders as if it was a lifeline. What was a ‘penury’? ‘Seduce’? ‘ _Enrapture_ ’? She went to ask her parents what those words meant, and why everyone was starting to look panicked, to make sense of what was happening, but her parents look so  pale —

Lev was sitting in the middle of the fairy insignia circle, actually starting to look scared. Not because  _he _was scared, but because  _everyone else_ was scared. His head started trembling, as it did when he was scared, and he was staring so hard at Ushijima, as if he could get an explanation.

Ushijima fell to the floor then, all of the yellow magic that held him up turning off, and the room became light again. The magic had no need for his body anymore, as the prophecy—the reading of Lev’s future—was done. A few soldiers ran over to hold him up, to get him up to the throne to rest, and a few servants ran to get the now black and burned out candles.

No one was coming to get Lev though, who looked so  confused —

Alisa ran over to him. The ceremony was done now—she knew this from past experience—and there was no need to stop herself from coming to get him now. “Lyovochka,  _Lyovochka_ —“

“ Alisa!” Lev jumped into her arms, and he hugged her neck tighter than a baby cat with a ball of yarn. He could have choked her, to be honest, but she was hugging him back just as tightly. When Lev started crying into her shoulder, she started patting his back.

Knowing their parents, they were going to demand an answer of what had just happened—their child shouldn’t have such a future—and Alisa sighed. It was good she was here, for when Lev was left behind. She understood that they were trying to help Lev when they left him behind, but wasn’t it better to be there for Lev in the moment than to do actions that would help him? Wasn’t it better to be there when he needs it, instead of leaving him alone to do things that’ll better his life?

That didn’t matter much, in that moment. Alisa let her hair get messed up by Lev’s tears, kissing him on the head every so often as she bounced him up and down. 

“Why did people panic, Alisa? Will I do something wrong? What did the fairy-man say?” Lev wiped away a few tears with his arm, wetting the fabric of his coat. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No you didn’t, Lyovochka,” Alisa said, voicing him up and down again. Of course, as a four-year-old, he had a limited vocabulary. Therefore, he didn’t understand a word of the prophecy. “I don’t know why people panicked either. Should we go ask?”

“Maybe.” Lev laid his head down on her shoulder, a fat cheek pressing into her neck. Alisa went to patting his hair again. 

“Well, when we get home, I’ll tell you alright? Mom and Dad will tell me what Mr. Fairy Man said, and then I’ll explain it to you, okay?” When Lev nodded into her shoulder, now tired and wanting to sleep—it was likely way past his bedtime, at maybe eleven-thirty—she patted his head once more, and walked to where her parents were.

———————

Alisa listened to her parents explain Lev’s future on the way home, the night sky making things more gloomy than it had to be.

Oh god, how was she going to explain this to Lev?

———————

Alisa wasn’t sure if it was fortunate or unfortunate that Lev fell asleep before she could tell him.

She watched his body rise up and down, up and down. 

Something bad was going to happen to him.

The future was horrible, wasn’t it? To think that a person who made her brother happy would make chaos.

And ‘And they will be married on the day the prince becomes a man’?  He would marry at twenty years old, on his birthday no less, and cause chaos?

What sort of world thought it was okay to give someone like her sweet brother a future like that?

She stared at her brother a little more. Observed the lines of his face. The way his eyelashes fluttered as he slept, his chubby baby cheeks, the way his short silver hair splayed across his pillow.

She lifted her head from the bed. Walked to the door.

There was a certain finality in the way she left the room, as if she knew that she’ll never get to see such a peaceful face again.

She would tell him tomorrow. In the afternoon, so that he could at least have a good morning, where his big sister would talk to him, and laugh with him, and his parents would simply be dead-silent from ‘sleepiness’.

——————

Ushijima sat up from his bed. He was  finally alone with his thoughts, and without the royal family hating him for giving a ‘bad’ prophecy for their ‘sweet child’. And  also without Oikawa teasing him about how, now, every single spectra fairy in the kingdom will be getting popcorn, wanting to see what happens to the prince.

(Oikawa  _knew_.  He _knew_ about Satori, and he  knew that Ushijima wasn’t supposed to be around him. Every second that the man talked, Ushijima knew what he would say next. 

He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but Oikawa’s voice grated on his ears. It was too sweet, and, with Ushijima having future vision, Ushijima had to hear every word Oikawa spoke  twice.  He had to hear  every word, spoken to him, twice, but Oikawa’s was too loud for him, and spoke too many needless words.)

The royal family gave him a lot of trouble. Ushijima knew that they would argue that the ceremony wasn’t done right, that  their dear Lev couldn’t  possibly  marry a _poor_ _girl_ \--yeah, as if he couldn't have married a _poor boy_. He saw all of it, and he listened to all of it. 

But it was fate that he would say the truth: that was going to be Lev’s fate. It was unchangeable. 

There was yelling and screaming, but what? It didn’t do anything to him. That was Lev’s fate.

They were such fools. There were plenty of interpretations one could make about his prophecy. Ushijima knew what would happen; Lev wouldn’t have a bad future at all. The prophecy was so misinterpreted.

Still, he allowed the royal family to think bad things, to think that Lev was going to marry a wicked, poor person. Call it cruel, or call him a terrible person, but he knew he had to keep the truth—the truth that Lev Haiba didn’t have a bad fate—away. If he didn’t, then the prophecy wouldn’t come true. That was what Ushijima thought.

Fate had a way of doing things. By trying to avoid what they  thought was their fate, the Royal Family  was walking right to their fate. Just as planned.

Ushijima went to go write down his visions for the day—he had to write the important ones down for the fairy council everyday—and thought about the visions of the day.

There was the upcoming war in the next century—spectra fairies will have to do their jobs well, for that—a abandoned child that would become the king of animals, and...

Ushijima wasn’t sure whether he should put it down. It wasn’t that significant, and yet...

He decided to put down the earlier vision he had, the one with a white crow flying down to a hazel tree. Ushijima knew who that boy was now. He didn’t know exactly who this ‘Sugawara’ gaurdian fairy was, and his visions tell him that he’ll never meet Sugawara, but it was important to keep him safe. Sugawara will help the boy in the future, and keep him sane.

As he was writing everything down, Satori knocked on the door. Ushijima knew it was him by the way he knocked—three hard raps, and then two soft knocks. “Come in."

Satori came in, his messy red hair flying everywhere. It wasn’t in its usual, gelled up style, being down and loose instead, scraggly and long. After all, it was far past anyone’s bedtime. “You’re actually up, Wakatoshi-kun? Well, you’re being quite rebellious, huh?” Satori wrapped his lanky, yet still muscular, arms around Ushijima’s neck.

“I’m trying to finish a report for important visions I have had today,” Ushijima said, and Satori hummed into his shoulder. He noticed how Satori didn’t look at his report. He looked anywhere  but the report, actually. “You know, if anyone were to walk in on us right now, people would kill you.”

Satori stifled a laugh. “Always so blunt!” He snickered a little, the sound somehow being pleasant and not grating, and said, “I can’t really care though, Wakatoshi-kun. I can always explain.”

Then Satori went on to a different topic. “So, everyone’s been talking about that prophecy you’ve talked about. How that prince’s life’s going to suck  ass.  What do you think?”

“He’s going to wonder a lot about if he has any control over his actions. But his future isn’t as bad as people make it out to be.”

“...so it’s one of those prophecies that’re really misleading?” Satori asked, arranging Ushijima’s hair. Ushijima nodded. “Coooooool. Now I don’t have to feel bad about anything. And you’ve saved me from wondering when the good part’s going to happen for two decades straight! Thanks, Wakatoshi-kun!”

“You’re welcome.” Then, Ushijima said, “Satori.”

“Hmm?”

Ushijima wrote down some words. “Would you mess with the prince’s fate? If you do, there might be complications I won’t like.”

Satori smiled a little, lips against Ushijima’s shirt. His eyes warmed into something less playful. “I won’t do a thing, Wakatoshi-kun. If I stepped near him, I’ll throw myself out of a window.”

“That would be dangerous,” Ushijima said, and Satori laughed, lifting the serious air.

Satori then proceeded to talk his ear off about everything and anything. But Ushijima found he was listening—and not pretending to, like with other people—and Satori never asked him to talk when he didn’t want or need to. That was nice. People accused him of never paying attention, when he had heard the entirety of what they were going to say and was waiting for them to finish. 

Satori’s voice wasn’t grating on the nerves. It was loud, but at a good volume; it was what other people would consider ‘vulgar’, but what Ushijima considered honest. It wasn’t sickly-sweet; he got that sort of voice too much from fairies that wanted to suck up to him. Though many words came out of Satori’s mouth, Ushijima found he liked being able to pay attention to another person, and what they were saying. There was no echoing of words, or waiting for the other person to finish saying the word he knew they were going to say. It was nice.

It was a nice night, and he, being in a good mood, hoped that fate would allow everyone to have a happy ending.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma has much more reasoning than Yaku, and Yaku has to argue to get a birthday gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot write Kenma correctly. No matter what I do, he either seems too weak, too talkative, or too ANYTHING, making him OOC. I hope you enjoy anyway though. These beginning chapters set up the entire rest of the story.

_ “ KENMA?” _

“Yes, that is my name,” Kenma said, his eyes only VERY slightly widening on seeing who he knocked over. “Are you Yaku-san?”

“Uh...” Should he lie or not?

“You’re Yaku.” Kenma stated it like a fact, which it was. Looks like his ability to read people had never wavered. He sat up, and then gave a hand to Yaku. “Here.”

Yaku stared at the hand for a few seconds. He became all-too-aware of the tension between them, and Kenma was holding out his hand so expectantly, gazing on him with a intense look.

Yaku took the hand. No matter how much he didn’t want to face it, he had to help himself. He had to talk to Kenma.

“So...” The air between Kenma and Yaku was thick enough to be cut with a knife . Kenma was gazing down at his feet, and Yaku could understand Kenma’s shyness for the first time in his entire life.

But  Yaku had to start the conversation. It wasn’t an option, to see Kenma suffer trying to start one.

“So...Kenma. How have things been going?”

“Good,” Kenma said, and Yaku knew he had said that just to say  something,  anything . “...You don’t want to talk, do you?”

Well, he had gotten more direct, Yaku thought, and he almost got proud...before he remembered that he didn’t have a right to be. He hadn’t seen Kenma for an  entire year .

(What was he  thinking , leaving his friends a year ago?)

“No.” 

Kenma stared down at his boots. They were shiny, and yet worn down.

(Yaku remembered how he used to nag Kenma a little about his runs, about how Kenma’s shoes were always the cleanest after a run. Kenma never listened, and Yaku never expected him to; it was just their relationship. 

He questioned if Kenma tried a little more now.)

Kenma said, after a while, “I don’t want to talk either.”

A silence. Kenma was waiting for Yaku to start talking.

(Was it worth it, to talk to Kenma, when his family was waiting for him? What sort of explanation would Yaku have to give? What sort of things would happen to him? What would his stepmother thin—)

“How are Kuroo and Hinata doing? I haven’t seen them.” The words came out of his mouth without him thinking about it.  Yeah, captain obvious, Yaku. You haven’t seen them for a entire year.

“ They’re fine.” Kenma said. He turned around, back to Yaku, walking away. A silent invitation to follow. Yaku wasn’t sure what to do; his feet were rooted to the ground. This was Kenma; Kenma was giving him a  chance,  after so long being separated—

And yet—

‘What about your family? They’re still waiting!’  Yaku panicked.  ‘Right now is 3:02. You get home by four most days. What is the best course of action?’  He fretted over it in his head. But then, he decided to bear his family’s later frustration with him. 

They would be angry with him no matter what he did. If he was early, he must have done something wrong; if he was on time, there was complaining that he left people  starving.  If he was late, then he must have done something wicked, and he was a selfish boy who didn’t deserve to live.

What’s one more whip-blow to the person that lived through life’s strifes?

(He knew there was  something disturbing about that last thought, but he couldn’t help it. When he had so much stripped from him, he thinks: what’s one more?)

Besides, Yaku had an hour, or so he reasoned with himself.

“Do they miss me?” Yaku asked, catching up.

“Shouyou would hug you. No questions asked.” Kenma said, talking as if Yaku had been gone for a week and not a year. His eyes were still stuck on his boots. “Kuroo has been a mess lately. I need a helper. Maybe your coming back will cheer him.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.”

A silence reigned over them again, and Yaku fought the urge to sigh.

The issues when two introverts tried to talk to each other.

This was going to be awkward.

—————-------

They got to the courtyard often used for sports by village kids. In all actuality, the ‘courtyard’ was a clearing in “Fairy Death” forest, but no one cared.

They conversed there, as the sun was beginning to set. Yaku was a libero for the first time in a year, and was rusty. Good thing this wasn’t an actual volleyball game, or Kenma would have kicked his ass.

“—and it’s frustrating that I haven’t grown a centimeter since my sixteenth birthday, understand?” Yaku used his foot to stop the ball from hitting the ground, but it bounced off in a strange way. It hit the net and he closed his eyes in frustration. He still picked up the ball though. He wasn’t going to give up just yet. “Two years should be enough to grow, but my genes seem to not like me.”

Kenma nodded in acknowledgment. Yaku served it over the net, and Kenma blocked it. “What date is it today, Yaku?”

“August eighth. Why?” Yaku used his arms to bring the ball up again.

“Your birthday’s in August?”

“Yeah...” Kenma did a feint, and Yaku became frustrated with himself again. 

“It’s today?”

“...Yeah, but I can’t really care about that.” Yaku picked up the ball again. He was starting to regret not getting a water bottle...or wearing sneakers. “I don’t know what I would want for a gift. Except, maybe, something that helps me.”

“Why don’t you ask for that?”

“Father spends a lot more on my stepsisters than me,” Yaku said. “It would be useless to ask him for something.”

Yaku didn’t add that Father never spent a penny on him, or that, even when he asked for an extra blanket, he was dismissed as ‘selfish’.

But somehow, seeing Kenma observe him, brown eyes intense, Yaku felt he didn’t need to add  anything .

If he slipped up around Kenma again, Kenma was sure to catch on. It was inevitable.

“Let’s take a break.”

“Okay.” 

They sat down, and silence came between them again, a soft pressure on them. Kenma was contemplating something, and Yaku was wondering when he would have to confess his home life situation.

“Do you want something?”

“For what?”

“Your birthday.” Kenma gazed down at his shoes, hugging his knees. He was in a squat. “It’s too late, huh?”

“No, Kenma, you don’t need to get me anything!” Yaku said, scooting over to him. “It’s okay!”

Kenma hugged his knees harder. “If you say so...”

“Just...your company is enough.”

Kenma spared a glance up. His eyes widened by a centimeter, and then went back to its bored state. He tucked his head to his knees again. “Can I suggest something?”

“For what?”

“For your father. For a present.”

“It’s not likely.” Yaku said. He saw his watch; it was ten minutes before four. “Father’s not going to get even a late birthday present today. He’s hasn’t been giving me presents since Mother died.”

Kenma knew that; it was a well known fact, back when they were still friends. Or were they friends now? Yaku wasn’t sure. 

Kenma nodded. “Can I still suggest something?”

And maybe Yaku’s heart was a bit soft, and maybe he had a hole in his wall of defenses and pessimism, but he nodded.

“Break off the first twig that touches your hat, if you ever go to the new magical forest, and plant it.” 

“The new magical forest?” Yaku wasn’t surprised by the first part of the sentence—Kenma knew magic after all, and so it was probably a thing he learnt—but a new forest?

“The one in the area between Miyagi and Tokyo,” Kenma said. “The one in the news, with the hazel trees.”

“That one? Wasn’t that made illegally, by a fairy, against seer Ushijima?”

“Yes.” Kenma saw the blank stare directed at him. “Trust me on this.”

Yaku sighed. “Why a twig? There’s no potion I could buy or something?”

“Trust me.”

“What will it do?”

“Grant wishes. You can have anything you could ever want, and plenty of help.” Kenma said.

Kenma was onto Yaku now. It scared him, and Yaku’s spine felt tingly. “Why would you give something so powerful like that to me?”

“I just want to help you—“

“Help me with what?”

“I don’t know.” Kenma said. Yaku didn’t even realize he was rising out of his seat, and Yaku sat back down again. “I think something’s wrong, though.”

“And how would you know?” Yaku knew he was getting defensive, but he was panicking, and he wasn’t in his right mind. “Do I come off as a person in need? Cause I’m not—“

“Yaku.” Kenma said. He was looking up at Yaku now. “It’s not because of that.”

“Then  what ?”

“A...friend needs help.” Kenma said, twiddling with his magic. “It would benefit them. And it’s your birthday. A win-win.”

Yaku felt himself calm down, and his body was lighter, emptier. What came over him? Kenma was just...concerned, and he got mad over that? “Oh. Someone else needs help?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Yaku blinked. Well, if it would help someone, then he didn’t mind. 

Still though, he wanted to avoid looking guilty. He was  fine ,  he was fine. Kenma didn’t need to worry about him, nor did anyone need to worry about him,  because they were all people that didn’t deserve his crap.

“Yaku-san.” Kenma said. He took a deep breath in. “I don’t know what’s happening, but you have the power to survive, and this branch will help you.” When Yaku opened his mouth, he added, “Think of it as helping yourself.”

Yaku was quiet at that. “This is a decision to take my advice or not.  You would help yourself. Technically,  I’m not helping you. You are.”

There was another  silence  , where Yaku thought a little bit. “Think logically, Yaku-san. You’re good at that.”

And Yaku listened a little more than usual. Kenma couldn’t talk as much as other people, and even right then Yaku could see Kenma shrink within himself a little more. 

Why did he get so mad at Kenma?

Regret filled him; it swallowed up his insides. Kenma couldn’t talk to other people with as much ease as Yaku did—social anxiety was crap—and Yaku blew up over Kenma being concerned.

Had he gone crazy? Was he  that mad, over something as simple as concern? Did he really hate ‘pity’ to the point of being hateful?

“I’m sorry, Kenma.” Yaku said. It came out a muffled mess though, so he said it again, louder. “I’m sorry, Kenma. I don’t know why I’d reacted like that—“

“It’ll be fine.” Kenma hugged his knees more, rubbing them, his silky blond hair falling in his face. “Just tell me if you’re going to accept my offer.”

It was a pitiful sight. Yaku wasn’t sure whether years of dealing with nonstop work, or his family, or schoolwork made him an jerk, but this was just...sad.

“I need to think. About the gift.”

“That’s fine.” Kenma still had his face hidden in his knees, but he wasn’t hugging them. “But it’s your choice to get help.”

And so Yaku thought about it.

Yaku hadn’t wanted birthday presents for the past five years. Ever since Father had made it clear that he was to never get presents for as long as the stars were in the night sky, Yaku never thought of presents. They were a far away dream; a wistful thought. Even if Yaku had been offered gifts though, he wouldn’t know what to want. He had never wanted more than he already had, and as long as he was fed and watered, he never needed much else.

Since he didn’t know what to want in the first place, it wouldn’t be such a big deal to ask that for a gift, right? But then again...

Ivy and Anya would tease him forever if he asked for that. Along with his title of ‘Cinderella’ and ‘tiny brother’, they would add something like ‘hazel twig boy’ to the list as well. Father would laugh at him. 

That wasn’t that big of a deal though. Thick skin had been made from the past two years, and—though it still hurt when he was insulted—he had grown used to the terrible status quo. He could deal with the laughter and jokes; it wasn’t the main reason why he didn’t want to accept the magical offer.

So then what was the main reason? Pride. The answer hit him like a bullet train.

(Mother has always said that pride was the originator of all sin. Yaku felt a certain sort of disappointment in himself; his mother had always wanted him to be kind, and yet he had failed today. And when he left behind all of his friends a year ago.

‘Pick yourself up!’  She  would have said that, if she were alive, being so cheerful. ‘ It’s okay. We all have sin!’

With thoughts of Mother in his mind, he was comforted, and determined to better himself more.)

Pride was the main reason he was refusing. Huh. It was a bit strange to refer to himself as prideful, for some reason. 

No matter. To counter pride, Yaku thought that logic would be his best weapon.

It was perfectly reasonable to get help. If he got a wish giving branch, he would be able to get help on things he would be too bothered to do. If he needed immediate groceries, or a cloak when his stepsisters stole his clothes yet again, he could wish for it. Help for tiny things like that...he could really use it. And it would get his abusive family off of his back a little less.

It would benefit whoever Kenma’s ‘friend’ was too. Kenma didn’t explain why his friend needed a twig to be broken off—and Yaku knew to not press, for Kenma would have already said something if the explanation was important—but it was worth it to help someone out.

And Yaku...Yaku wasn’t sure if he wanted help, even then. A stubborn part of him yelled that he was handling himself just fine, that he was doing quite okay with his workload as it was. 

Truth was, Yaku had been so used to being there for himself, without anyone to help him. Leaning on someone—or rather,  something —was foreign, almost scary to him. It was logical that, if one stood up for too long, they would want to sit down. But to Yaku, ‘sitting down’ was an admittance of weakness and a chance for anyone to attack him at his lowest. ‘Sitting’ meant that anyone—his family—could take his metaphorical ‘chair’ from him.

But.  _But_. 

What did it matter at this point? If they took away something that helped him, like they did for the past two years, then it happened. It would be accepted, and he would be able to move on, as he had been doing for two years. And he could hide the branch. It wasn’t hurting anyone.

He could do that. 

And so Yaku decided to help himself, and be ‘selfish’ for once in his life. “I’ll take your offer, Kenma.”

Kenma tilted his head up, his eyes being seen for the first time in the past ten minutes. He blinked in confusion, and then relaxed.

“Thank you.” 

“Well, as you’ve said,”—here, Yaku smiled—“I’m only helping myself.”

Kenma allowed a corner of his mouth to turn up, so minute, but so precious. If Yaku could see that smile again, he would let down his guard, and be friends with everyone again.

Something caught Kenma’s attention. “What time is it, Yaku-san?”

Yaku checked his watch, and read in horror. Damn it; it took ten minutes, minimum, to get back to his house! “Ten minutes after four.”

“Oh. My mother won’t be pleased.” Kenma’s mother was a witch, and a terrifying one at that. Yaku never went over to the Kozumes for that exact reason. “Curfew’s at four.”

Yaku was already throwing the volleyball they got back into its basket, and dusting off his clothes as to not look suspicious when he got back. He was  so fucked. “Yaku-san, do you have a curfew?”

“Yes!” Yaku said, a bit too out of breath. “Can I leave?”

Kenma seemed a little confused. Yaku could feel observant, thinking eyes on his back and  damn he did  not need this right now. “Of course you can leave. Why would you need permission for that?”

Yaku didn’t answer, getting his school bag on his shoulder. Then, a question came to him. “Kenma, How will I be able to find the right magical forest? Magical forests look the exact same as regular ones.”

“You’ll know when you see it. Even if you send another person to get a branch for you, they’ll be drawn to the magic of the forest.” Kenma said. “And magical forests teleport on their own.”

When Yaku stared, he said, sarcastic, “What part of the word ‘magical’ do you not understand?”

Yaku shook his head. He needed to get out. 

He said a quick goodbye to Kenma and ran out of the forest as fast as his legs could move.

—————-

As soon as Yaku stepped into the kitchen, his ‘bedroom’ of sorts, he saw the lentils in the ashes and the crumbs and pieces of yarn scattered on the floor and tabletops.

He sighed. Anya and Ivy really wanted to murder him with work, huh?

Looked like he wouldn’t need to make lunch today though. A huge plate of sandwiches were on the table, with a bite in the last (and only) one.

He had some time before he had to make dinner.

As he did the painstaking job of picking up lentils (and washing them, to eat later), and swept away all of the sandwich crumbs, he decided to take another trip to Mother’s grave.

He tripped on a conveniently-placed ball of yarn on the way out though, and almost smashed his head on a counter. Anya planned this; that was for sure. No sane person would knit in the kitchen of all places, and that ball of yarn was placed in the exact middle of the space between the fireplace and the counter.

“Shit.” Yaku picked the ball up and put it in a basket used so that he knew what to return to his stepsisters. They did this sort of thing so much. It was funny, to see his head and body bruised, to them.

He used the backdoor to get to the backyard, to get to his beloved garden. No one took care of the garden besides Yaku, and it was one of the only things that wasn’t taken from him when his stepfamily started to hate him. As he had a heart for living things, he decided to raise the garden as it was his own baby.

It was also the place were his mother was buried, and so it was a precious place.

Yaku got to the garden. Pushing through some tree branches full of leaves, he got to his mother’s grave...

And found his father on it, staring into the void. 

Father was in a grey business suit, his dark-brownhair neat and pristine. He was still, almost like a realistic statue. Yaku could only see the back of his head, but he was sure Father was trying to not cry.

“Kou...” Father said. He might as well have not said it at all though; he whispered Mother’s name as if the entire world was listening to him. 

Yaku took a few steps to him. He was cautious, and he whispered, because of the delicacy of the situation. “You miss her, Father.” It wasn’t a question; just a fact.

Father didn’t react. It was as if his mind had been taken to a whole new world, removed from this one. Yaku took a few steps closer. Then, he took his father’s shoulders into his hands. “I miss her too.”

They stood there like that for a long time. The wind blew, the trees swayed, and—for once —the world was quiet. When Father cried, Yaku squeezed his shoulders. When Father started commenting on how much Yaku looked like his mother, Yaku still squeezed his shoulders. When Yaku started crying, the tears flowed into the new daisies that grew at the sides of the tomb.

The pigeons in the coop needed feeding, Yaku remembered. He remembered that the new willow tree needed some trimming. But it didn’t matter now.

After a while, Yaku let Father do as he wished. This was a private situation, and he feared that he would be unable to get out of the situation if he stayed any longer.

Yaku made dinner with more force than needed that day.

————------

“I’m going to the fair today!” Father said over dinner, accepting his plate when Yaku gave it to him. “After dinner, I’ll be going to the kingdom of Tokyo. It’ll be a place of many people, and many things too!”

Tokyo, huh? The magical forest was between Miyagi and Tokyo.

“Again, Dad? You go on trips everyday with Mom!” Ivy said, pouting a little. She then jumped from her table. “Dad, can we get some stuff? Pretty please, pretty please!”

“Of course you can! Pass over the salt, dearest.”

Ivy passed the salt. “However, I have limited packing space, so only a few things, alright?”

“That sucks, Dad,” Anya said. “I would have asked for ten ballgowns.”

“Why would you? You’re ugly as shi—“ Ivy ducked to avoid Anya’s slap, giggling like a hyena. Father laughed a little too.

“Want to finish that sentence?” Anya said. There was heat in her gaze, but she wasn’t angry. She looked too relaxed. “Want to finish that sentence, my stupid sis—“

“Stop it girls.” Stepmother said. Her long fingernails scratched into the table. Anya and Ivy stilled, and went back to their seats as quick as they could. It wasn’t out of respect, but out of fear. “If you keep this up, you won’t get any gifts, understand?”

“Yes Mother.” The twins said, as if they were one person.

Yaku broke the silence that followed by refilling everyone’s drinks. Father and Stepmother had water, but both Anya and Ivy had apple juice. If Stepmother weren’t here, Yaku would have commented on how water was healthier.

Yaku wondered if he could ask for something too. Of course, he could do it right here, right now. But then again, one of them could know about the magical forest, and see what he was trying to do...

(Guilt piled up in his stomach, even though all he wanted to wish for was some more clothes and some grocery shopping. Really.)

Then again, didn’t Kenma say that magical forests moved to where they were needed? Or rather, that one would know if they saw it? So, therefore, he could ask to get a twig from a forest. A hazel twig, to be more specific.

“So, girls, what do you want for your presents?” Father said, smiling as if nothing had happened. “Just ask.”

Ivy pretended to think very hard. “Well, it’s too hard to pick.” Then she smiled. “Just kidding, get me beautiful dresses.”

“Anya?”

“Jewels and pearls,” said Anya, who brushed out long, straightened hair from her face—she had grown it out over the past year, to ‘be more ladylike’. “I would like to wear them.”

Ivy let out a secret smile this time, instead of teasing. After their mother told them, in implied terms, to shut up or else, she wasn’t going to risk anything. 

“Alright! Those sorts of things are what teen girls love, right?” Father said, asking for Stepmother’s opinion. A silence came over the room as her fingernails drummed on the table—a clicking rhythm. Then she nodded, and all was right. Stepmother had approved something, and so it was right, and Father smiled.

Dinner was started and done, and before Yaku could whip something up for himself, Father was outside. The carriage was made, the suitcases were loaded up on the top, and Stepmother clung to Father’s arm. They looked like a mismatched couple; Stepmother was a woman that looked as if—if the law didn’t ban it—she would murder every sighted human being, while Father was played the role of the sheepish nice guy. 

Yaku was climbing onto the carriage to get suitcases up when Father asked what the twins wanted. It wassunset, at about seven, and the orange sun made everything a warm glow. 

“Beautiful dresses!”

“Pearls and jewels.”

Father nodded at this. Then, he seemed to have remembered something. Slowly, but surely, he acknowledged Yaku’s existence for the first time in a while. “And ‘Cinderella’, what do you want?”

(Of course Father thought the Cinderella nickname was  hilarious .)

Before Yaku could answer, Ivy and Anya went over. “There isn’t enough room for all the presents! If he gets presents too, then there won’t be room for ours!”

_‘Of course they put themselves above me,’_ Yaku thought, a bit bitter. He shook himself out of that bitterness though. “Today’s my birthday.” He said. A few heads turned to him.

“So what?” Ivy said. Anya nodded besides her. “You can’t ask for too much stuff, or otherwise we’ll be left out.”

Yaku decided to not mention the fact that Ivy and Anya got literal dozens of presents for  their birthdays. “I didn’t even ask of anything yet.”

“Honey.” Stepmother said, and it would have been funny for a quiet person like her to say that, but she seemed dead serious. “Do you want me to have to have a bit more in my luggage, dearest?”

“Huh?”

“Surely, he wouldn’t need a birthday present. He hadn’t needed one for the last few years, isn’t that right?” Stepmother said, and glared at Yaku with a distinct heat. _ Do not speak up or I will have your head. _ And, in all honesty, Yaku has seen Stepmother get angry a few times and he  did not  want to see it again.

(He had a pot thrown at his head, one time. And the verbal beat down was nightmarish.

He did  _not _want to see that.)

“Uh...” Father was panicking a little.

“ _Dearest_...” Stepmother said that with such a sweet voice, it almost made Yaku feel sick.

Father’s eyes were conflicted. Yaku and his wife got equal amounts of glances, and he blinked harsh and wild. Then, he seemed to have remembered something, and he considered it with a solemn look.

Turning to Yaku, he stared at him. Observed his features, as if he was trying to compare Yaku with someone else. Then said, “If space is a problem, then Yaku would just have to ask for something small. Something I could carry easily. There! Problem solved!”

Anya and Ivy grew sour faces, but there was nothing they could do. Stepmother gave a glare alongside them, but Yaku was too happy to get something for his birthday.

“So, let’s recap.” Father said. “Jewels, pearls, and pretty dresses. And you, Cinderella. What do you want?”

Yaku, admittedly, hesitated for a second. His stepfamily already wanted to kill him, and a trace of pride and fear still struck his heart. But he decided to be brave. To help himself.

“Father, break off for me the first twig that brushes against your hat on your way home."


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sugawara realizes the situation his ward is in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know how to write Suga, but I tried my best! Hopefully it's not too OOC...
> 
> Also, Tokyo is a city-PREFECTURE. I made it a kingdom here cause all kingdoms here are Japanese prefectures, and all within the general area called "Japan", if that makes sense. Your girl may be dumb, but she tried lol

Koushi Sugawara changed into his crow form, white wings checking out the magical forest. 

The thought of a new ward excited him; it made him wish for time to move faster, so that he could do what he was always meant to do. Patience was a virtue however, and so he had to wait. 

None of the branches in the forest called out to him. His sixth senses weren’t tingling, weren’t saying _‘ This is the tree! This is where you are supposed to live!” _The following of the sixth senses were as important as breathing to magic users—especially fairies—and it helped that all magic-users had some form of seer magic in them. Perhaps all magic users couldn’t see the future, but to follow their senses was to put into place the plan the universe had for everyone.

He flew and flew. And flew. And flew. Daichi was getting restless next to him, black wings being weakened. “Please find a place for us already, Suga.”

“Just wait.”

And there the perfect tree was in a few moments. There was something that drew Suga to it.

He made his home in it, along with Daichi, and knew that something was going to happen. He didn’t know what, but it was going to happen; he could feel it in his bones.

———---

Oikawa took the form of a flowering rose bush, with leaves as shiny as silver and teal roses.

As the technical gaurdian of the new forest—he created it after all—he had responsibilities. Unfortunately. He could sleep in his form, to be honest, but even he knew the dangers of sleeping in plant form in an area with many trespassing humans. They would take his teal roses for _someone_ , and would have no idea they removed the eye of a fairy.

Since he couldn’t sleep, and there was nothing to do in the mostly empty forest, he was getting bored. The only reason he kept this stupid forest up was to piss off Ushijima, but Ushiwaka had probably predicted this, huh?

Ugh, the way Ushiwaka acted...

Revision: the only reason he kept the forest up was to satisfy his sixth sense.

Oikawa shape-shifted to his human form, a handsome, pretty man with luscious brown hair and pretty eyes. He yawned, raising up his turquoise tunic...just in time to see a woman in a carriage, with a man on one of the carriage’s horses, coming back from Tokyo.

Great. Another human, drawn in by magic.

Oikawa was about to pull out the magic to make the carriage trip over vines...but his sixth sense told him to stop. See what happened. 

The man waved as he passed by. Stupid sixth sense. He could have had a lot of fun, tripping over the carriage. It satisfied his urge as a high-rank trickster fairy.

(Geez, he could hear the Iwa-chan voice in his head now, about how cruel that is and how he should stick to pulling hair. Ugh.

At the same time, it would be nice to have Iwa-chan with him. _Just_ to alleviate boredom, of course. Maybe Iwa-chan could come here and stop doing his totally-not-fun guard duties for once.)

The man’s hat caught on a twig, and it broke off the twig. His floppy brown hat flew off, and the carriage was ordered to stop.

Oikawa observed the branch, boredom still overtaking him—until he saw the small, silver glow coming from it. He jumped up.  _Holy shit, that was another fairy’s branch—_

And then, a white crow—a familiar one—fell out of the tree, right at the man’s feet. As soon as the man picked up his hat, he picked it up, observing its wings. Then shook his head in sadness. Yep. Mr. Refreshing had a broken wing.

He spotted Oikawa from his hiding place in the bushes. Oikawa was about to run, but every inch of him was screaming at him to not move, that, if he did, he would mess up fate to a crazy degree.

“Excuse me!” The man said. He had brown hair, slicked back, and eyes, with tan skin and a stubble. “Excuse me, do you know the quickest way to get back to the Miyagi countryside?”

From the way he held Sugawara, he  really did not know how to take care of a hurt animal. Like,  at all. The man kept speaking. “I don’t really know where I am or how to take care of this bird. This bird’s probably going to die, and I can’t do anything about it, because I don’t know how to help animals—“

“First of all, hold it properly.” Oikawa said, arranging the man’s hands into proper position. Sugawara gave a look of thanks, before closing his eyes. Was Mr. Refreshing  _this _desperate for a ward? “And you want the quickest way out of here?”

The man nodded fast. No sixth senses told Oikawa what to do at that moment, and so he listened to his instincts. No matter what path he took, the man would get out of this forest alive. This forest was full of guardian fairies after all, and Oikawa wasn’t into killing people. A few trickster fairies were, but he wasn’t  _that _callous.

But, the man did want the  _fastest _path, right? He never asked for the  _safest _path.

“ Take a right over there,” Oikawa said, smiling his best smile, as to look trustworthy. “Then keep following that path until you reach the willow tree, where you take a left. Keep on going on that path, no matter what, okay?”

“Thank you, Thank you!” The man bowed and bowed again. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.” Oikawa said, giving a bright smile. The man went back on his horse, called for the carriage to move, and they left.

It was only when they left that Oikawa realized the man had took Sugawara’s twig with him.  _Oh shit—_

But then he was calmed. Sugawara would determine if... whoever got him was a good person. And, if worst comes to worst, the rest of the fairies could come and save him. After all, Mr. Refreshing made the best drinks in the kingdom, and no one was going to lose their prized ambrosia-maker anytime soon.

He then realized that he was going to have to explain this to Daichi, and he sighed. Of course he had to do work. He wished for it, after all.

————

Kenma has done a great job at getting a good ward for him. Suga was impressed.

As soon as the scary woman and friendly-looking man came home, two girls got a few dozen presents of dresses and jewels. They were happy, and it was sweet.

Then he saw a short boy, who looked sixteen but had an air of maturity, climbing up the carriage to get down all of the suitcases. Suga has assumed he was a servant—his clothes were so old and grey and admittedly ugly in comparison to the middle-class clothes everyone else had. Then he heard the word “Father” come from the boy’s lips, and Suga was confused.

From his position in the carriage, Suga could hear and see everything. He saw the boy, who was less than six foot for  sure , haul down all of the luggage and boxes and get them into the house without any help from his family. He saw the way the boy thanked his father for getting the twig for him. He saw the gleam of wooden shoes, and cooking burns on his arms. He saw how clean and flawless his family looked in comparison. He saw the family completely ignored him, and not thank him even once.

So that man was his father, huh? It didn’t look like it.

And Sugawara knew to not assume anything...but at the same time, it was obvious that the boy was not as well liked as his (Sugawara assumed) sisters.

The boy came into the carriage, feeling up plush cushions until his hand came in contact with Sugawara’s broken wing. He came inside more, and large dark-brown eyes observed the bird. He called back:

“Father, why did you bring a bird with you?”

“I found it a few hours ago! It is hurt, but I don’t know how to help i—“

“It’s hurt!” The boy said, running his hands through sand brown hair. “Father, why didn’t you tell me this? I would’ve helped sooner, if I did!” He then went to scoop up Sugawara, in a proper way, as to not hurt Suga. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll help you, okay?” The boy said it in a soft, comforting voice, and he ran into the house with Sugawara in his hands.

———--------

Sugawara was taken care of for a long week, after Yaku (as he learnt) patched up his wing. Every day, from the early hours of the morning to the end of the night, Yaku took care of the bird.

Sugawara saw everything, from how Yaku woke up at about five in the morning everyday so that he could make breakfast for his ingrate family, to how he had mental breakdowns trying to do schoolwork and housework every evening. He saw Ivy and Anya trash up the kitchen, as they had nothing else to do, to make more work for their stepbrother. 

He saw the solemness Yaku had after his stepmother accused him of being a selfish being. And, from the times he flew around the house, he didn’t see the father nor the stepmother be around much either.

And yet Yaku still took care of Suga, still smiled every time he saw the bird. He still gave fresh fruit and seeds, and remembered to feed Suga even when life was as stressful as it could be.

He was a kind person. Sugawara could tell that.

Kenma got Sugawara a ward alright. This one  really needed help, and someone to lean on. However, no matter how difficult it was going to be, Sugawara was going to do his job. After all, he  did wish for work. He  was going to help Yaku out the best he can, and keep him sane. He  was going to convince him to get help, and convince him to stop the cycle of abuse. 

The cycle of abuse was a bitch. Sugawara knew that. After all, he had been living for a thousand years. Too many wards had abuse problems.

And he could see it in the way that Yaku lashed out at the walls when he was mad, and in the way his temper burned too hot. He was sarcastic to a fault, at least internally, and too defensive when it came to his ‘deficiencies’. 

Suga would encourage him to stop these habits. It was his job, after all. 

But it would only work if Yaku went along with it, and helped himself. Suga could only push, and hope that would be enough.

Nonetheless, Sugawara saw the way Yaku clapped his hands in satisfaction when he organized the silverware for the fifteenth time, or smiled when he related to Suga about what a party must be like. There were the times where he commented on how well the plants in the garden were doing, or wished for something as simple as a good pair of shoes.

And everyday, before he went to sleep in the fireplace, Yaku took out a small picture of a woman and himself. He would smile, rub his thumb over the woman’s face, and put it down. 

He was savable.

————————-

Suga changed into human form outside of Yaku’s mansion, silver hair shining in the orange sunset. It was boring to wait so long on top of the stone wall for Yaku, but he wanted to get to know him a little more. What was he like outside of caring for a bird?

And besides, he needed to tell Yaku how to summon his bird self. The hazel branch, near a gravestone of a person Sugawara didn’t know, grew fast. It was only a few weeks after it was planted, and it was the size of an adult. Sure it was magical...but magical trees didn’t grow to that size unless there were a great amount of tears shed onto it.

(Sugawara tried to not think about the implications, and how Yaku loved going to the garden more than a regular person did.)

Yaku came home from school, with a schoolbag over one shoulder and a whistle. Sugawara stood up and greeted him.

“Greetings, stranger!” Suga waved his fedora at Yaku, and Yaku rose an eyebrow, but listened. Suga knew he should have not chosen to wear a grey suit. “Can I have something to drink or eat? I have had nothing for a little bit.”

“...Sure. Stay out here,” Yaku said, saying exactly what Sugawara thought he would say. Yaku ran into the house and came back with some tofu and water glasses. 

“Here, let us eat here. Sorry for the tofu, but it was such short notice...”

“No problem!” Suga chirped out. Sure, this tofu wasn’t the spicy tofu he loved, but it was still tofu. He ate it with much vigor.

“Eat slower! You’ll choke! That’s dangerous!” Yaku said, pointing a motherly finger at Suga. He put his hand near Sugawara’s back.

“Okay.” Sugawara said, smiling as he downed some water. Ah, this teenager was so much like him, and motherly too. “And, just saying, isn’t it dangerous to feed a stranger who you don’t know? Isn’t _that_ dangerous?”

“You’re hungry and thirsty. And I left you out here, instead of inviting you in, so I think I can be excused.” Yaku ate some tofu. Sugawara knew it was likely one of the only things Yaku ate that day—Yaku had a bad habit of forgetting to eat, with how much work he had to do on a daily basis. Despite how much he loved tofu, Suga scooted some more to Yaku. “And you needed help. I can’t leave a person in need.”

Suga smiled. “Alright, that can be excused.”

They ate and talked, exchanging names along the way. Sugawara got to ask questions about the hazel branch tree too, and it’s magical properties.

When Sugawara left, he was happy and content. Having a new ward was exhilarating, and he was going to have a good time.

As he left, he gave a tip to Yaku. “About that tree...”

“Yeah?” Yaku said, face growing to be suspicious. “What are you thinking?”

“Just...have you been explained how to get your wishes?” When Yaku shook his head, Suga knew he had to hit Kenma Kozume when he got back to Nekoma village. “Well, to get wishes, you have to say this particular line...”

Yaku looked a little suspicious, but then realized how...unnatural Suga was. There was a certain aura that made him look a little more ethereal than any normal person. He wasn’t a normal person. He had magic, and that was for sure.

So Yaku listened.

“ _Shake and quiver, little tree,_

_Throw (insert thing you want) to me._ ”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.” Sugawara had made his phrase for summoning him simple, to make things move smoothly. 

“And how would you know that?”

“Well...” Here, Sugawara let out a mysterious smile, the mole under his eye wrinkling with the rest of his face. “I’m magical, and I know Kenma.”

“What?”

Sugawara was already gone, disappeared into thin air. Yaku blinked at what just happened, wondering if what happened had just happened. Then accepted the fact it had happened.

He glanced over at the tree. “Shake and shiver, little tree?” That was what he had to say? And was that the ‘friend’ Kenma talked about? It had to be, right? 

He wasn’t going to question anything though. At least he knew how to get wishes now.


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter is unintentionally long, and we get a sight into sixteen-year-old Lev.
> 
> Also, there is the long waited meeting. You'll know what I mean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lev is one of my favs, and I...couldn't fit him into the first few chapters. Just...wtf, at myself. I do like how this chapter turned out though.

Two  more years passed.

Yaku got to see the tree he watered with his tears grow into a pretty hazel tree, with emerald leaves and a cool shade. He prayed and wept beneath it every once in a while, and it grew even more, to the size of the mansion. It was a predominate part of the front of the house, with the huge tree sticking out of the left side of the mansion like a leech.

Looked like that silver-haired man, who he learnt was named Sugawara, was right. Whenever Yaku wished for something—which wasn’t often, considering that he would hate himself if he asked for more than he absolutely needed—he would get it from his pet, who he called White Crow. He only wished for food, some clothes, some help with lentils, and ( _one time_ , when he felt lonely and desperate) for his family to love him and for his mother to come back.

(White Crow cawed softly in his ear that time, and Yaku knew that the dear bird wouldn’t be able to grant his wish that time.)

Sugawara came over everyday. He had to stand by the stone wall surrounding the mansion, considering that Yaku knew his family would  not be happy seeing him talk with a stranger, but he was okay with it. They became friends, and Yaku found that their similar personalities fit like a glove. 

Sugawara didn’t joke about how serious he was, or how motherly he was, because Sugawara was the same as Yaku. They worried over each other, joked when it was appropriate, talked a strange amount of time about White Crow, and talked about mature things—politics and news and such. He kept Yaku sane on terrible days, when he felt tired mentally and physically, with how he was okay with Yaku not talking. Sugawara, on bad days, would talk for the both of them, squeezing Yaku’s shoulders and hands for comfort.

Of course, Sugawara grew worried about the dark bags under his eyes, and how Yaku would collapse on his shoulder on bad days. That was his nature as a motherly person, and Yaku hated how his own personality trait—with how much Suga was like him—was used against him. Maybe it was best to not have someone so similar to him as a best friend. Was this how people felt when Yaku took care of them?

Nonetheless, Sugawara was only trying to be a good friend. Yaku, after a few times of being angry—and over what? Sugawara caring about him, like any friend would?—understood that. It didn’t stop his annoyance though.

Sugawara went to being a supporting friend and didn’t press Yaku for details—an appreciated thing—but still suggested he’d get help. Yaku thought about it more, but it still seemed impossible to him. 

Father traveled so much, and was so nice to so many people, that his reputation was untarnished. Anyone who saw him liked him. If there was to be even a speck of dirt on that reputation—and Yaku’s problem was  much more than a speck of dirt—Father would do everything to ruin their lives. Yaku knew this; Father was a rich merchant with a lot of friends in high places, and—therefore—lots of power. Father had a lot of power to do anything. With how Yaku had ruined  his life with killing his wife, Father wouldn’t think twice about doing the same to Yaku.

The Miyagi authorities would absolutely believe Father more than Yaku. 

When Yaku explained that, Sugawara nodded,  and  reemphasized that Yaku always had his support. That was new. People were too worried about him, and Yaku hated the attention; no matter what it looked like, he was  _fine _. He wanted to make his own decisions, and he knew himself more than anyone else, and Sugawara respected that. 

It was nice.

In the two years that passed, he tried to reconnect with friends too. It was...nerve wracking, however.

Every time he would sit in his group of friends, anxieties would bubble up. What if they found out? They would pity him, probably. What if he said anything incriminating, and in front of someone as observant as Kenma? What then? Would he slip up? Would he give off weird vibes when he cooked faster than anyone else, or apologized as a reflex? Was it weird to always be doing schoolwork as other people were talking, or have to be home as early as four in the afternoon?

Those sort of thoughts only increased when there were more and more people. He had a distinct knowledge of what Kenma felt on a daily basis; a sense of claustrophobia surrounded Yaku every time he did anything. More people meant more people that could find out about his home life, and Yaku was  _not _going to have that happen.

But things got to a better state. He had a support system. Sugawara was  great at telling people to leave him alone, and to let him make his own decisions. 

He missed his friends, and how they smiled, and how he took care of them, and the stupid conversations they would have about everything and anything. He missed them. He missed volleyball. He missed being able to kick their shins when they got too rowdy. It was like a better home.

(The questions they asked—about his home and his life and how much he had changed—were hard to deal with. It was hard how much he had to hide his home life, to the point where he wasn’t himself anymore. Which garnered more questions. Which made him hide himself more. Which made him less of himself.

It was a nasty cycle. But one he could deal with.)

He still cried over his mother. It was much less now than it was three years ago, but the urge to want to ask her what to do still came up, and still wandered around in the back of his mind. 

(He would make her proud. He had to.)

Ivy and Anya never changed. They still left lentils in the ashes, and still joked about his height and seriousness though they knew not to. They never thanked him for cooking and cleaning for them, or for taking care of them when Father and Stepmother were away. 

Which was a lot of the time.

Anya and Ivy talked to each other a lot, but never to him. Yaku got used to giving lunch trays without them giving him a second glance. But every once in a while, he would get insults thrown in his face, if the girls felt like it. 

Yaku would get a mild sense of annoyance from this—anger had long dissipated into controlled patience—and then feel a little bad. Stepmother was never around, and—when she was—the twins were absolutely  terrified of her. They wouldn’t be their annoying, snarky, insulting selves, and it wasn’t a good sight to see.

Once, Ivy was snarking about how serious Yaku was yet again. Yaku was about to tune her out, and then she said, “Jesus Christ, you’re more of a mother than our actual mom.”

And Ivy had a tone of annoyance, but a face of seriousness. That face was replaced as soon as it came, and Yaku didn’t ask questions. 

But he had a feeling that he was the closest thing to a parent Ivy and Anya had. And somehow, he started feeling responsible for them. He wanted to care for them, no matter how much they didn’t care for him back.

So he cleaned and cooked and organized without complaint.

Yaku, no matter how much he knew it wasn’t going to happen, still wanted his family to like him. He wanted them to appreciate how clean the wood floors were, or how much he kept up his grades, or  anything, really. But it wasn’t going to happen—his realistic brain should have told him that.

Still, he wished. He wished for a day of his own, where he could have fun without any threats of work. Yaku wanted his family to love him, and he wished for his mother to be proud of him. He wished for one day to himself—no family, no school, no work, and no one who knew him.

———--------

Lev remembered the way Alisa told him to sit in her lap when he was four, the day after his future was told.

She was wearing a fluffy black dress—Lev could remember the softness, as clear as day—and she ran his fingers through his hair. His white clothes had little specks of mud from morning play—his retainers were  pissed —but she didn’t point them out. She allowed him to play with her long, straight hair as she talked, his small, fat hands reveling in the smoothness. Alisa’s bedroom was dark, with streamers of light slipping past velvet curtains, giving the room a red tint.

She explained what “penury” and “enrapture” andother things meant. Alisa joked about the  “this prince, the one with a childish mind”  part, and then he laughed with her, because that is what innocent children do. 

Then she told him his future. Someone, someone who was likely poor or in a terrible situation, would make Lev fall for them. Lev was okay with that part—he didn’t really care about how poor a person was—but Alisa explained why their parents didn’t like that part.

“You aren’t supposed to marry a poor person,” Alisa said, with a bit of sadness. “You’re a prince, and that’s how things are.”

“But why? They just don’t have money, right?”

Alisa pulled him to her chest. “I don’t really know, Lyovochka. I’m sorry your big sister doesn’t know.” And there was something about the look in her eyes that made Lev realize, to an extent, that his perfect big sister was a human too.

And then she told him about how his future spouse was going to have lies and secrets, and capture him, and hide from him. “Hide their true self from you. I think that’s what the prophecy meant,” she had said. “Or maybe they are a bad person, Lev.”

She explained that no one knew how to interpret the “nights of three” part, where he would meet his love’s true self. “Everyone’s making a fuss,” she said, joking around.

Then she got to the marriage part. “You’ll be married at twenty, Lyovochka. That is the age most people ‘become a man’, as it says in the prophecy.” 

“Twenty years is a very long time, Alisa!” Lev had said, matter of factly.

“Sixteen, Lev. You’re four now.”

“Oh.”

Then she related how his marriage would lead to chaos in the kingdom. She told him that, if the prophecy was interpreted in a certain way, he could marry a terrible person. He could be destined to marry a bad person and ruin the kingdom by marrying.

Lev cried, as expected, with fat tears rolling down his cheeks. Alisa patted his back, allowing his tears to stain her top. She cried with him as he told her how he didn’t want to fall for a bad person. She cried as she told him a part of her prophecy she hadn’t told him before: she wasn’t going to ever marry anyone. She loved everyone and anyone, and read romance novels like her life depended on it, but she would never be able to marry anyone.

That was a bad day.

Over the years, Lev never changed. He still got his clothes dirty when he played outside, still hugged everyone and anyone he liked, and still never got scared of anything. It was almost crazy. His smile was still innocent, and his grin was as wide as his face.

He still sneaked out of the palace when he felt like it—even though his parents told him to not mingle with the poor folk—and cried when he got minor injuries or a tiny cut. Lev never learnt to control his mouth either. There were many times where Alisa had to shut his mouth for him; she talked a lot, but even  _she _knew it wasn’t a good idea to keep asking about someone’s facial deformity.

He was as innocent as ever though. Even after many years of his childishness and impulsive tendencies, the palace servants got used to it. It didn’t hurt anyone. Besides, he was like a endearing puppy in personality, and his pout got him out of many situations.

No one ever imagined that he was testing the servants. Lev was curious to see how far he could get, before he actually got yelled at. He was a prince, and he had been taught that many people would do anything just for him, lowering their standards. He didn’t believe this, and wanted to see this for himself.

Turns out, he can go to the point of  breaking a marble column. By  _running_ into it  too fast.  _With a sword._

Everyone loved him, and coddled him, all because of his birth and a prophecy he couldn’t do anything about. It didn’t make sense. Why was he allowed to get away with so many things most people would look down on? Why were they so sad over something that would be inevitable, and something they can’t do anything about? Why did he have to stay in the castle his entire life, when there was so much to live for outside the walls? It’s not as if he could avoid his fate, so why were people so insistent on making him avoid poor people? Besides, poor people weren't bad people at all, so why did his parents treat them like the devil?

It didn’t help that his parents made sure that every servant he met was male. As if Lev couldn’t be bisexual. He laughed at their efforts though; it was a little funny to see how much his parents tried (and failed) to avoid the prophecy. He didn’t tell them he was bisexual though. It would be annoying if they isolated everyone from him, and he would be so bored and lonely, he would die!

Besides, the male servants joked with him. He could play with them while Alisa was off trying to learn to become queen, and when his parents were off doing their business-y stuff.

Up until sixteen, he had a decent life. Alisa was busy all the time, but loved him to death, and his parents were cool despite the “keeping-Lev-away-from-everyone” policy they had. He didn’t have as many responsibilities as Alisa, and so he got to play and have fun more. The only thing that he hated, but not really, was the constant change of clothes everyday (he started to horseback ride into forests a lot at thirteen) and lessons. He didn’t like to pay attention to lessons.

Which lead to his current problem, at the age of sixteen...

———---------

Lev was about to fall asleep.

His teacher was off, going to the bathroom or something—Lev didn’t remember. Meanwhile, the teacher’s assistant, Kuroo, was rambling  on and  on about the power systems of politics or whatever. What was Kuroo talking about? And he  tried to listen—he  _really _did—but he would  really rather be anywhere other than  here.

“The Yakus were a pretty powerful family, ya know? They’re famous for their advances in biological technology and biological knowledge in general...” Kuroo kept on blabbing  on and  on , and  _Jesus Christ_ why did Kuroo have to like biology so much? 

Who in the world gave a  crap about the Yakus or whatever? Lev just wanted to sleep. Or go outside. Or go talk with some peasant people. Maybe Kuroo would let him out ‘just this once’ like he did a few months ago, when Lev started to whine a little too much. Was it a good idea to whine now? 

Kuroo would probably be mean again, and tease him again. He pouted at the thought, blowing neat silver hair out of his face. It sucked to be so bored on a daily basis. And he knew that he was privileged—some people would  kill to be in his place, learning what he hated—but he was  way more interested in cool stuff. Like cool battles. Or different ways to hunt. Or political stuff that made everyone more equal. Stuff like that.

He should pay attention to Kuroo. He knew that, and he didn’t want to waste his friend’s time. That would be the meanest thing he could do to Kuroo! But at the same time, Lev knew he would focus so much on focusing that he would forget to comprehend what Kuroo was saying, so he didn’t bother.

What was Alisa doing now? To be honest, his sister was real pretty. She was surrounded by many hopeless suitors, and that was for sure. Was she as bored as he was? They were the same, so she was probably dying a little. Was she okay? Considering she had been preparing to be queen since forever, ye—

“Lev, do you have a brain in there?”

Lev’s head shot up so fast, his usually neat hair flew around him like a halo. Kuroo started laughing his ass off, almost crying, clutching at his sides. “ _ Kuroo _ !” Lev whined.

“Sorry, not sorry,” Kuroo said in between wheezes, and Lev only pouted and whined even more. “You should have  seen your face!”

“I got really scared there, Kuroo!”

“But I got you to be awake, yeah?”

“ Yeah , but it shouldn’t be through  that !”

“Serves you right for not listening to me,” Kuroo said, shaking a joking finger. That crazy-wide grin was on his face yet again. “You have to appreciate biology and that sort of thing.”

“No. I won’t.” Lev said, face smushed into his wood desk. Books—ones that were likely never read— were put in stacks on it, which made strange shadows on the floor. Kuroo and Lev were having lessons near a large, open window that took up the entire wall.

“Well,  sometimes , Lev, we have some stuff that we should just learn for the sake of learning. For  you, biology and math are those things,” Kuroo said, going over to Lev to sit on his desk. “For  me , it’s politics and wars.”

“ How are you not interested in politics? If you play your cards right, you could help out a lot of people. There are so many opinions!” Lev said, taking his face into his hands. His green eyes, sparkling with cheer and playfulness, were shaped like a cat’s, and Kuroo almost laughed at how childish they looked right then. “And battles are so cool! There’s a whole lot of fighting, and strategy!”

“Exactly, Lev. I don’t really like emotions and blood and guts, like you do, so I stick to numbers and cells. More logical.” Kuroo then plopped off of Lev’s desk, fancy shoes hitting the stone floor. “See? I like what I like and you like what you like. Both are interesting, but I like the numbers while you like the emotions, and that’s cool.”

“...I guess you’re right. But I still don’t like biology. Or math.” Lev’s face was still stuck to his desk, and Kuroo used his hand to pull it up.

“That’s cool. Now come on, let’s get back to the lesson—"

“Please no!” Lev said. Kuroo gave “the look”, as Lev called it. “At least explain the previous lessons first. I didn’t get them at all.”

“Of course you didn’t get the first few lessons,” Kuroo said, sighing. He ran his hand through his black bedhead. “Okay, I’ll reexplain it, but you have to actually  listen and  ask questions this time, or I’ll have your head.”

“I’ll ask a  lot of questions though!”

“To be honest, I don’t care. At least you’ll be  listening for once,” Kuroo said pointedly. Lev pouted, and Kuroo snickered a little. “You better listen this time.”

“I will!” Lev said, a bit high pitched. “I will, Kuroo!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Be like that for the rest of today, and I’ll sneak ya out of the palace for an hour.”

“Really?” Lev’s eyes could be stars they were so happy.

“Sure. I don’t give a shit about what your parents say. You’re a person that wants to interact with people, like anyone else. No prophecy can change that.” Kuroo walked away from Lev. He checked the coast to see if anyone was listening in to their conversation; only palace servants could know of the prophecy, and Lev’s parents would  _not _be happy if their son was allowed to sneak out. “Besides, no one would miss ya. I’ve checked. No one would want to see ya tonight, Alisa is cool with it, and your parents are still out of the country. We’re good.”

Lev’s eyes twinkled. Then he jumped out of his seat, ran over to Kuroo, and hugged him to death. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Woah there, big guy,” Kuroo said, feeling some air leave his lungs. He still patted Lev’s back though. “Can I please breathe?”

“Sorry!” Lev jumped out of Kuroo’s arms, but he was still grinning. No matter how many times Kuroo had seen Lev’s grin, he was always taken aback by how sweet and innocent it looked. “Ah, I haven’t gone out in ages!”

“You sneaked out just the other day.”

“Just to hunt a rabbit or two. For a half hour! And I told people where I’d gone!” Lev said. “And you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, you mean talking with people.” Kuroo said. He would have said more, but Lev’s teacher came in and interrupted.

The rest of the lesson was boring, as usual. Still, Lev tried his best, and hoped it would be enough. Which it wasn’t—he only understood about two percent more than what he used to—but it was progress! He told himself that, and became proud.

————--------

Kuroo put on his red cloak, fiddling with the silver clasp, before helping Lev with his.

Lev’s face had to be hidden with his cloak. Many of the peasants didn’t know what Lev’s face looked like—sure—but if any nobles caught the prince outside the castle walls, Kuroo would be punished, and Lev would be in  deep shit with his parents. 

They rode off, with Lev’s horse—the one with the humongous brown mane—and Kuroo’s black horse riding into the nearby forest.

This is the point where the reader may ask this question: why did Kuroo risk so much for Lev? Why risk his job, and possibly his life, if Lev wasn’t returned safely?

It must be understood that Lev had never had the concept of ‘freedom’. Ever since the prophecy had said he would marry a poor person (and therefore cause chaos), his parents closed off the castle walls for him. They never allowed any female servant to talk to him—they would die if they did—and he was to be escorted everywhere and anywhere. He was to be a cheerful person, but not too cheerful, or his parents would suspect he was in love. If he laughed a bit more than usual around anyone that wasn’t a noble, his parents would remove that person out of his sight.

Lev had went through many retainers and servants, to say the least. 

He had blue bloods surrounding him all the time, but it was a truth that he was a prince, and therefore higher than any rich person. People were nice to him—even if they found him annoying—just because he was a prince. After all, the Haibas were well-known for being protective of their family members, and Lev most especially—he was the youngest. 

What if the only people that were allowed to stay with you were people who liked only your status, dear reader? What if you knew that your cheerful personality, your tendency to be accidentally insensitive, was annoying and unfitting to anyone who was “in your lane”? What then? How would you feel?

Poor people were allowed to be themselves, but not rich people. Lev realized that a  long time ago.

He found that he was allowed to be his cheerful self around poor people. At least, ones that didn’t know his identity, which was easy if he didn’t say his last name. 

Kuroo happened to stay around Lev the longest. It had been a straight year—most people assumed he didn’t care for Lev, because he critiqued the insensitive boy _a lot_ —and that was enough time for Kuroo to see Lev for who he was. Lev  was whiny, and childish, and cheerful, and quite insensitive, sure. But he was also  lonely , and somehow both self-critical and confident of himself at the same time. Lev also liked learning about social classes, and how they lived, which was also a surprise. Who knew cheerful Lev wanted to improve the lives of the lower classes?

With all of this, Kuroo grew a sort of love for Lev. It was inevitable; Lev was earnest and nice, despite his flaws, and Kuroo had a soft heart despite his looks. And, with people one likes, one does stupid and dangerous things. 

Kuroo was never known for smart decisions. Especially if people he liked were involved.

Kuroo was thinking about how dead he would be if he was discovered to—gasp!—give the prince a secret tour of Miyagi’s villages. He kept his red cloak over his head, and fought with the silver clasp to not thump against his chin, as he rode his horse. Lev was ahead of him, laughing as if being outside— _ like a normal person_ —was the best thing he had ever experienced. Lev’s simple clothes—tight, black pants and a white, collared shirt—were becoming dirtier and more wrinkled by the second as his horse kicked up more dirt than a tornado. 

“Lev, slow down!”

“Huh?” Lev was far ahead of him, his horse being faster than the east wind. 

“Slow down!”

“Why?”

“I need...to...talk to....you!” Kuroo was getting tired of horse riding so much. Jesus Christ, how could someone only two years younger than him have so much more energy?

“Okay!”

Kuroo caught up to Lev. “Jesus Christ, how do you horse ride for twenty minutes straight?”

“You okay, old man?” Lev asked, half-joking and half-serious. He moved his horse next to Kuroo’s so that he could use his arms to prop Kuroo’s chest up. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Just...we kinda went past where I wanted to show you.” Kuroo said. He felt his head; yep, his bedhead had gotten worse. “I wanted to show you someplace new.”

“Really?” Lev’s eye sparkled, and he cheered and moved his arms. “Thank you, Kuroo! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you—“

“I get it, Lev.” Kuroo waved his hand, and Lev fell silent, but still grinned. He got his horse to trot on a path to the left, and Lev followed with his horse, ducking under tree branches. “Want me to tell you, or will it be a surprise?”

“Tell me!” 

“Okay then. Put up your hood first though.”

Lev put it on as fast as he could, making sure the gold clasp around his neck was secure. They kept walking to the outside of the forest—Lev had gotten deep inside—with night falling upon them. The trees glowed, with teal leaves being lit up by the moonlight. 

Kuroo began to speak.

“There’s this magical hazel forest and stuff—you know how much magical forests move around. It was created two years ago. By fairy Oi-something. Oikawa, I think. There’s a marketplace for magic users near the entrance of that forest today—there’s also some party with dancing involved.”

“Dancing? I love dancing!” Lev said, almost jumping out of his seat. 

“Do you have money for the marketplace?”

“Yeah! Here!” Lev pulled out some coins from his cloak pocket. “I really messed up last time, so I tried to remember!”

“...Good job,” Kuroo said, giving Lev a head pat with his white-gloved hand despite protests. “Anyway, the marketplace is going to be a little confusing. Stay by my side, okay? If you don’t, you’re going to get lost and get me dead.”

“I’ll stay by you!”

“No, I’m serious, Lev.” Kuroo said, giving a serious look back to Lev. “ _Stay. By. Me_. I’ve checked it out and it’s  huge . You  will get lost, and what will happen if you’re lost?”

“I get caught and my parents lock me up forever?”

“Correct. Also, I’ll probably die.” Kuroo gave another severe look to Lev. They had arrived at the outside of the forest, far into the Miyagi countryside, and, in the distance, one could see warm lights coming from the entrance of another forest. They stopped their horses. “I’m serious Lev. Do  _not _get lost on me. I want you to have fun—curse my soft heart—but I don’t want you and me to die.”

“Okay.” Lev said, a little breathless as he saw the fun being had in the distance. Then he broke himself out of it. “But what if I get lost, Kuroo? What will happen? Where do I go if I get lost, so you’ll find me?”

Kuroo searched for solutions. Lev would get lost. That was inevitable, and destined. Then, he remembered how far into the Miyagi countryside he was, and how far Yaku lived in the Miyagi countryside, and he searched with his eyes until he could see it. There was Yaku’s home, a big dot in the distance. He knew it; no other house would have such a ginormous hazel tree to the left of it. 

“Hey, see that house over there?” Kuroo said. Lev nodded at him, eager. “If you’re lost, get yourself to the entrance of the marketplace and go over to that house. My friend lives there. I’ll be able to find and see you; the only things to see in this countryside is the wheat and dirt.”

“Why not the entrance? Wouldn’t that take less time?”

“Well...” Kuroo turned his horse to the bustle of the magic marketplace, and Lev copied him. “Look at how many people there are. More people would arrive, probably, since this is a mostly-magic-user event. People drive here in droves, you know?”

“Okay!” And with that, they went to the marketplace, remembering to tie their horses at the entrance.

—————-------

The marketplace was beautiful. 

The entire view of the sky was blocked by huge sheets of white cloth, and yellow fairy lights made the air feel warm and cozy. It was almost like a huge blanket fort.

There were foods and snacks, toys and magic drinks. Patterned cloths were being sold to people with more head scarfs than Lev could count. There were magic shows done by old men, and lanterns with blue magic in them, and some of the nicest people Lev had ever met. 

He even got head pats and the honorary title of ‘son’! That was pretty good!

(Of course, Lev almost got himself in trouble multiple times when he kept on bothering some performers with annoying, almost offensive questions. Kuroo managed to mediate the situations and explained before anything bad happened, so everything turned out fine!) 

Lev was eating a fried fruit kebab—a really good one!— when Kuroo spotted Kenma, who trotted over to them.  Kenma  had a cool outfit: midnight blue cloak with stars sewn into the bottom, red tunic, and black pants with black boots. 

“Kenma! You got here!” Kuroo said, seeing Kenma. He grabbed Lev’s hand and pulled him with him, going over to Kenma. “I didn’t expect to see you here. There’s going to be a party soon.”

“I know. I’m obliged to dance though. It’s a tradition,” Kenma said, pulling his hood over his head. 

“It’s probably the only dancing you’re going to do in your entire life, Kenma!” Lev commented, with a smile. “You can’t be a little excited?”

“I don’t want to dance.” Kenma said, shrinking a little into himself. Kuroo gave Lev the ‘you-better-apologize-before-I-punch-you’ look. Lev wasn’t sure what he done wrong, but if Kenma didn’t want to dance, that was cool!

“That’s cool! Not wanting to dance, I mean! What are you going to do, then?”

“Just watch you guys until I have to dance. I have fun that way,” Kenma said. He looked up from the ground—Lev never understood why he loved staring at the ground—and he went over to Kuroo to stick to his side. “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s cool Kenma.” Kuroo patted Kenma on the back. Then gave an nod of approval at Lev. “Lev and I will be doing all the dancing tonight, aren’t we?”

“Yeah! It’ll be a lot of fun!” Lev said, excited. Kuroo snickered at his enthusiasm. “Let’s have a lot of fun!”

It was then that the sound of drums and high-pitched instruments began to ring in the air, and everyone moved their stands out of the way. Kenma spoke, still glued to Kuroo’s side. “The party’s starting. Get out of the way.”

Kuroo pushed the both of them back, until the were at the front of the crowd. The starting dancers began, did their thing, and then finished, hands held out for potential dance partners. “Hey, Lev. I’m going to dance too. Don’t get too into it, or you’ll get lost. I heard these dances can get  intense .”

“Okay!” Lev said, not really listening as much as he should have. He, without thinking, added another comment. “Dance with Kenma for me!”

“Wait what?” The crowd was dispersing to get dance partners.

“Kenma probably would be most comfortable with you Kuroo!” Lev said, his voice already becoming distant, getting a dance partner. 

Kuroo took the time to gaze after Lev, before taking a dance partner.

————-----

Everything was a blur. There were people’s faces, and pretty girls, and pretty boys, and yellow dresses and red suits and blue shoes—

Lev had been dancing for a while, and Kuroo was  _not _kidding when he said the dancing was intense. His feet, clad with leather boots, felt like they were on fire, and his hands burned from clapping so much. 

He should have stopped, but the people who asked to dance were  so _charming_ , and had  such _sweet_ smiles when they asked for him, that he accepted another dance every time.  _Just another one, and you’ll be done,_ he told himself, knowing he was lying.

At some point, even  _he _had lost energy, and he tried to find a place to lay down because ' _thank you Lisa but I am about to die from exhaustion'_.

There were so many people. Lev pulled his hood over his head to hide the top of his face. Shoulders and knees and elbows jabbed at him, and he tried to escape from them, but he couldn’t. Even though his eye height was a head taller than most people at sixteen, he couldn’t  see  anything from his position but a sea of heads and hats and hoods.

This is a little tight,  he thought, and he thanked any deity out there for his thin limbs. He was being pulled into the crowd, and moved along with it like a bottle being pulled along with the stormy sea. People pushed him, and pushed until his body was as tightly wound, packed like sardines.

Where was Kuroo? Maybe he was that red hood over there? Or that red hood in the opposite direction? Or maybe he had his hood down? But Lev couldn’t see any black-haired bedhead.

Oh crap , Lev thought, as he got pushed over to a random stall. It didn’t look familiar. Or maybe that was his memory playing tricks on him?  _Am I lost ? _

_ Where was Kuroo? _

Lev caught his hand on the edge of the stall, and managed to get behind the counter. The girl there, one with curly black hair and blue eyes, blinked once, and then didn’t question his presence. 

He sat. Took deep breaths in. Then out. In. Out. Assured himself that he was as brave as a lion. That was what you were supposed to do when panicking, right? Alisa said it would work, and so it would work. Or at least, that was what he thought.

Then he tilted his head back, hood hitting the edge of the stall. He yanked it down to his forehead; he wasn’t going to risk making things worse by being recognized. Feet were passing by him in droves, the stomps and talking as loud as thunder.

Kuroo wasn’t kidding huh? This was intense, and Lev wanted to go home, and he wanted to see Alisa again.

His head was clearer now, being in the darkness behind the counter of a random fruit stall while a bored girl ignored him. He patted his cheeks to calm himself more, and then smiled. Lev wasn’t sure why people said it was hard to stop panicking. Sure, maybe it was hard for  _them_ , but  _he _always got himself in a good mood in a minute or so.

He wasn’t dead yet. _Yet_. That was why he wasn’t panicking. Sure, things were bad now, but there was still a chance of Kuroo finding him! And Lev wasn’t literally dead either! There was still hope; he would save losing hope for when he would be carried to his parents, who would never let him out of the castle until his twentieth birthday.

Then Lev remembered. That house Kuroo said to be at, when he got lost. 

Lev grinned. Then frowned. Where was the entrance of the marketplace? “Mrs. Fruit seller, do you know where the exit to this place is?”

Mrs. Black-Haired Girl looked down, her bored expression never moving. She pointed to the left. “Thank you!” Then Lev remembered the feeling of being packed like sardines. Ugh. “Is there any quicker way out?”

The girl stared at him. Enough that Lev thought he said something wrong  yet again . Why did he always say bad things? Her face looked to be conflicted, as if at a battle between herself and some other, magical force that controlled her?

She went to him, and sat down. Lev could feel some magical sense from her. Or maybe that was everyone else. Lev wasn’t sure. “Can I do a spell to transport you?”

“Sure! Of course!” Lev said. He scooted closer to her. He felt his mind go a bit blank, and then found himself at the exact outside of the marketplace.

It was bustling—Lev could hear announcements and people’s conversations even from his position—with the huge, white, tent-like canopy doing its best to hide the overwhelming golden glow of the inside. How was Kuroo doing? Or Kenma? It was a question of the ages for Lev, who never understood why anyone would want to be alone, why Kenma avoided parties. But Kenma...even  _Lev _understood that Kenma shouldn’t be in packed places like this.

Nothing he could do about it though. He shrugged—still worried for his friends—pulled his red hood up again, and went to his horse.

He got his horse, and started the ride to that far off house in the distance.

It was a much larger distance than expected. A dull blue night had settled in, being about five in the evening in winter. A few stars twinkled, and Lev took the time to stare and be amazed, his eyes twinkling just as much.

His boots encountered dirt, field grasses, and some itchy wheat stalks or whatever they were called. Peasants would probably know what they are. That was why they were interesting to Lev; despite everything, he knew nothing about the outside world, full of randomness and fun and weirdness. What was that pretty pink flower he met? He had no idea. How does one make money with a business? Was the harvest going well enough to provide for his family? Those were questions he would never have to ask, but peasants did.

It was interesting. The rich and the poor were so different. But it was bad that they were so different. Lev had learnt from his escapes that the poor lived worse lives than he could imagine, and the things poverty did to people...it was _scary_. Plain _scary_. 

That was why the poor and the rich have to learn to understand each other. That was why the poor had to get paid more. At least, that was his thought process.

By the time Lev got to the house, it was about five thirty, and he wandered around the stone wall around the mansion.

Now what? He glanced over the wall—easy enough with his height—and there was no one there. Was he going to have to wait? But he didn’t _want_ to wait! It took a long enough time to get here! What if Kuroo forgot about him or something, and then he would be bored for a straight hour?

Lev pouted at the thought. He didn’t want to wait that long. Fiddling with his red cloak, he pulled the hood over his head yet again. Then checked if he had anything to eat in his pockets. Nope. Only some leftover coins. And a little lion toy Kuroo got for him, as a joke.

Crap .  His stomach rumbled a bit in hunger, probably for the first time in his life.

He huffed. Kuroo better get here soon! He took his horse and went to tie it to a part of the stone wall, at a corner...

And heard someone.... _crying_? Was he hearing that right?

He cupped his ear. Yep. That was crying.

He sneaked around the corner and saw a trembling boy, hugging his knees, sobbing his eyes out. He had the prettiest brown eyes Lev had ever seen.

——

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Who in the world gave a crap about the Yakus or whatever? Lev just wanted to sleep."
> 
> Wanna say that again, Lev?


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins are (pitiful) assholes, Yaku gets the greatest shock (and love) of his life, and Kuroo questions if his constant worry makes Yaku uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: you will get a little mad at Ivy and Anya here. And the Stepmother. But we FINALLY get the YakuLev meeting after literally 40000 WORDS of exposition. Please don't be mad at me, Yakulev fans, for taking so long hahahahah
> 
> Also, are you guys enjoying things so far? Am I writing things nicely? Please tell me! :D

_ 4:30 in the evening, the day Lev met Yaku.... _

Yaku had heard about the twin’s father.

He had heard them talk about their father like they would do anything to stay with  _him_ , instead of their stepfather. Or even their mother. Or  _especially _Yaku.

There was a picture frame on both Ivy’s and Anya’s desks. The picture inside was of them and another man, who had light brown hair and blue eyes. That was their father, Yaku assumed.

And assumed correct. 

Earlier, at two in the afternoon, he had heard screaming and yelling coming from upstairs, and he ran up, just in case he would get punished for not coming up quick enough. He had learnt his lesson from when he took too long to get a first aid kit a year ago.

He didn’t get too far up the stairs though. The screaming got so loud that, even from his position, he could hear everything from Anya’s room.

There was pleading to not burn  something —Yaku wasn’t sure what that something was—and Stepmother’s voice saying that “it’s what you two deserve.” There was screaming, something being thrown, and then sobbing.

Yaku went straight back down the stairs. He was  not going to get involved in this.

(Later, he went to deliver the twins lunch. Both were silent, and as he set the tray down on Ivy’s desk, he noticed the picture frame wasn’t on it. And remembered that both of the twins had fireplaces in their rooms.

He got out as soon as possible.)

Now, at four thirty in the evening, on a cold December night, he rubbed his thumb across the picture of Mother. She was laughing, her short, light brown hair being messed up by a baby Yaku. Her eyes were squeezed in joy, and she caressed his cheek as if he was the most precious thing in the world to her.

He sighed, smiling, White Crow sitting on his shoulder, watching. He could make it. He could deal with this, and graduate out of high school sane, and get a job, and get away from his family. He could do it. He just had to survive six more months. Survive.

He put it down, on the kitchen counter, where it always sat. Then lit a fire in the fireplace—it was large one that made the entire room feel as if the sun was inside. Yaku remembered to let out White Crow, and opened the window. After a few shoos and pleadings, White Crow obeyed, and flew out the window.

Yaku looked on. His eyes followed his dearest pet of two years, until it disappeared into the night sky. Then the door behind him slammed open.

His stepsisters stomped in, with the both of them having the sour faces they had kept since that afternoon. They looked as if they were about to murder someone. Yaku sighed. They were going to yell, and he knew it. At this point, it was something he had to get used to, or else his mental state wouldn’t recover. 

“Get us some fucking food,” Ivy spit out. She sat on one of the iron stools, and lowered her chin to the counter, her face contorting even more. With anyone else, Yaku would have criticized them for language, but he knew it was not a good idea to piss off a mad Ivy. 

Even if he didn’t _know_ what would piss off Ivy.

Ivy was an unstoppable force when angry.

Yaku searched through his list of five-minute foods, stepping on a step-stool to search the cabinets. “What do you want?” He asked, keeping his voice level.

“She has wanted sandwiches for the past few years, Cinderella. What the fuck do you think she wants?” Anya said. He could hear her sit down too, and her fingernails made a sharp, grating sound against the sink. “I want the usual too.”

Crackers and cheese. Got it. He closed the cabinets, jumped down from the step-stool, and ran for his life to get to the other side of the room. He made sure to control his jittery fingers; Yaku had to take out the crackers, cheeses, bread slices, tomatoes, and lettuce as fast (but as carefully) as possible. If he was too clumsy, he might lose precious time, or be accused of being lazy, and he was not going to get yelled at by the twins when they were this angry.

He had seen it a few times. He was _not_ going to see it again.

He heard them play with things on the counter, impatient. The way they handled food on the counter...Yaku couldn’t understand their love of digging their nails into oranges, or apples. And he would have to eat that too!

Then Ivy got her hands on something...not food. Her fingernail scraped against something metal, and Yaku’s heart stopped, his gaze fixed on a lower cabinet. “Hey Anya, know who the fuck this is? Kind of an ugly woman, don’t you think?”

(It took all of his strength to not turn around and break Ivy’s neck.)

“I don’t know. Cinderella, why do you have this photo?” Anya said. Yaku could feel her eyes on his back.

Maybe, if he was honest, he could get out of this without any trouble.

“I like it.”

“Why? Wait a second...is that you?” Anya started laughing, a soft and sharp sound at the same time. “Oh my god Ivy! Look!”

Ivy glanced up, and started laughing too.

Okay. Maybe he would get teased, but that was white noise to him at this point.

“Just going to take this, tiny brother!”

“No,” Yaku said, before he knew what he was doing. He cringed; he could only hope that wouldn’t piss Ivy off.

“Why? Are you embarrassed? Who’s holding you? A nursemaid or something? Honestly, your mother would have hated you—“

“She’s my mother,” Yaku said. He had took out all the ingredients he needed, and turned to face his sisters.

Ivy scrutinized the picture frame, her face turning sour again. Anya glared. Both seemed to have remembered something.

_ Oh shit. _

“She’s your mother, huh?” Ivy said. She rubbed her thumb over the picture, face dark, and Yaku had the overwhelming urge to yell at her. Only  he could do that. His stepsisters weren’t meant to touch his mother—

“Well, _you_ get to have a picture of your parent. _You_.”

“Can I have it back?” Yaku said, putting on his politest voice. He did his best to put together sandwiches and crackers in cheese, making sure they were flawless in appearance.

He got no answer. He turned back.

Both of his sisters were glaring at the picture. In...jealousy? Anya held it with a severe grip, and Yaku feared the glass would break.

He didn’t have to worry about that though.

Ivy took the picture, her face contorted in rage...

And thew it into the roaring fireplace.

“ **_ NO— _ ** “ Yaku dived for it, but it was too late. The glass had already melted, and the photo burned beyond repair. His hand almost got burned when he tried to reach into the fire in haste. 

As he turned around, all he could see was red.

His stepsisters looked terrified of him; they had not expected him to have  that reaction.

He kicked their stools so that they fell off. There was only red. 

Then his vision and reason came back. Ivy and Anya were hurt, their legs hitting the floor. Nothing was twisted or broken or anything—Yaku could tell just by looking—but regret flooded through him like a river. He felt like throwing up.

He did that to his stepsisters. The people he was practically raising. The people he was supposed to care for.

On top of that, there was no way he could get out of punishment now. Oh no. There was no way he was going to get out of the shame fest his Stepmother was going to put him through.

And, as if the devil wanted to make his day worse, his Stepmother opened the door.

————

He ran out to the garden. Yaku jumped over the tiny pigeon coop, hopped over the stone wall, and started to cry.

He cursed himself for crying. He was supposed to be a strong person. Strong people don’t cry. Do they? Maybe. 

Maybe he was one of those strong people, who had been strong for so long that it was inevitable that they would break. People were human; all people had sensitive hearts. Maybe it was the time that, after four years of abuse, his hardened heart would break from pressure.

That explanation made the most sense to him.

_You are not to touch my daughters,_ Stepmother has said. Yaku, despite his fear, wanted her to take her own advice.  _And you have love for your mother? I suppose that it is natural for a person like you, to like the past more than the present. But in this house, only I can be loved._

So what if he liked the past more than the present? At least in the past, he wasn’t abused to the point of getting used to it. He could talk to his friends without fearing that he would let a detail of his home life slip. At least, in the past, he could have had an actual life not filled with  _housework _and  _abusive stepsisters_ and a  _absent father_ —

Yaku forced himself to calm down, taking a deep breath in. He had anger issues, to say the least. 

He knew it wasn’t right for Stepmother to abuse him, and knew it was a unreasonable thing to ask that he’d stop loving his cheerful mom and love an abusive stepmother. It was insane. Why focus love on an abusive stepmother? Who would do  that ?

Tears  still stained his cheeks. They still traveled down his face in droplets, staining the ground.

Sugawara has come over at the wrong time. He tried to talk, but Yaku just wanted to be  alone . 

And he left him alone. Thank god. He couldn’t be seen like  this. Not in front of people he cared about.

He hugged his knees, his face hidden in his black pants and his back to the wall. He would  die if anyone saw him like this, a sobbing  mess. No, he was supposed to be the  _support_ , the  _mom_ , the one that got everyone  _out _of their problems, and not  _into _them. He wasn’t going to be the supported one. That is  _not _what he is supposed to be to his friends.

He lifted his face. He was going to have to make dinner soon. Yaku knew that. If he wanted his next crying session to happen later, not sooner, he would have to pretend that nothing happened. He would have to pretend to be a unemotional robot again.

For now though, he let his tears flow. They hadn’t come out in a while. 

He tilted his head up, to calm himself, and saw a red-cloaked boy staring at him.

He let out a scream, and the boy jumped back, pulling his hood over his forehead. Yaku, sitting on the grass, clutched at his racing heart. _Oh goodness—_

“Did I scare you?”

“No shit you scared me!”

“Sorry!” The stranger bowed a little in apology. “Sorry! I’d just came here and heard you, and I wondered what you were crying about?”

“None of your business!” Yaku yelled. He scooted away from the stranger, wiping away tears with his tan sleeve. Jesus  Christ he looked like such a mess—

“I was just wondering!” The stranger said. “You looked really sad crying there! Can I help you?”

_ " Why would I want help from a complete stranger? ” _

The stranger pulled on his hood again—was that a nervous habit or something?—and put his hand on his face. He seemed thoughtful. Then he turned to Yaku. “Okay. My name is Lev! Now we aren’t strangers!”

Yaku ruffled his hair, almost laughing at how crazy this situation was. Why was this guy so insistent on being in other people’s business?

“We don’t have to talk about it! I mean, I’m interested, but you just said that you didn’t want to talk!” ‘Lev’ said. Wait, did Yaku just say that out loud? “That’s cool. People don’t usually tell me what they want! I tend to say some offensive stuff—that’s what people tell me anyway—and I only say it cause I don’t know—“

Yaku raised a hand up to silence Lev. At this rate, he was going to get a migraine from all of this new _information_ and _emotions_ and the _strangeness_ —“Why are you telling me all of this? And why should I trust you? You’re still an unknown person to me.”

Lev took a few seconds to stare. It was...way creepier than it should have been, with Yaku’s knowledge on his personality. He guessed it was the green cat eyes. They were a little creepy looking when they were without happiness.

Finally, Lev’s brain seemed to work. “I just ramble a lot! I guess I really love talking!”

“I can tell.”

“And trust? You’re talking to me, right? You trust me!”

Yaku pointed at the wide distance between them. When Lev blinked in confusion, Yaku said, “Does this distance show that I trust you? Besides, talking to someone doesn’t mean trust. If that were the case, you’d trust a politician with your dirtiest secrets.”

“It would be a bad idea to trust a politician with secrets though!”

“Exactly.”

Lev thought about it for a few seconds. “ _Oh_. I get it!”

And he said that with such a conviction that Yaku let out a small snort. Then he remembered that Lev was still a stranger, and calmed himself, clawing off some tear tracks with his fingernails.

“Why do you want to talk to me anyway? Didn’t you ‘happen to stumble here’ or something?”

“Oh! Well, I got lost at the marketplace over there.” Lev pointed behind him, and Yaku could see a huge, white, tent-like structure in the far distance. “My friend told me to go here if I got lost, because you’re his friend or something? And I got here, but it’ll take a long time for him to get here, and I don’t want to be bored and you came along—“

“Oh.” Yaku said, going through his list of friends to see if had ever heard a ‘Lev’ mentioned by any of them. Nope. “Well, where’s your home? Maybe I can get directions for you. Then, when my friend shows up, I’ll tell him you went home.”

(Yaku had to admit that he offered that only to get Lev out of his sight.)

“My home is...not near here.”

“Just give me a address. All of my friends live far from here, and I know a lot of people.”

Lev thought, and then trusted Yaku. “Near the castle.”

_ (‘ _ _He must be a rich guy. Explains the cloak.’_ )

“Take this road and keep going til you hit Nekoma village. Then take the right path, keep going, then take the first left.” Yaku watched as Lev’s eyes widened in amazement. There was something satisfying about that, but he kept his voice unemotional. “Then keep going until you hit the huge stump, where you take the middle path. That is where you’ll find the road near the castle.”

Lev’s eyes were glittering. “You’re so smart! Thank you!”

And he said that with such a smile—one that cracked a hole in Yaku’s walls—that Yaku found himself scooting himself over to Lev. There was no malice in that smile, and nothing potentially dangerous.

“You’re welcome.” Yaku then gestured for Lev to sit down next to him. Lev sat down as soon as possible. “Are you going to take my advice?”

“Nope!”

Yaku sighed, but it was more out of habit than annoyance. “Well, I suppose I’m the only person you can talk to at the moment.”

“Yeah!” Lev said. He still had that red hood over his forehead, and adjusted it every few seconds. “I do want to talk to you though! Even if you pushed me away a little!”

“...sorry for being a little rude. I was freaked out.” Yaku said, getting regretful. “I’ll be more of myself now.”

“Oh, it’s fine! Besides, you were crying before, so I can understand that.” Lev said, not realizing that bringing up embarrassing moments wasn’t a good thing to do. “I’ll just keep you company.”

Yaku then remembered all of the cooking, and cleaning, and homework. He had to do it all. _It couldn’t be put behind—_

Then a strange sense of calm came over him. This day was bad. It was the worst it could be at the moment, with how much his stepmother would tell Father how  terrible Yaku was, and how  abusive, and how he wouldn’t love his own  stepmother. This happened whenever Yaku did something wrong. No matter how much he would plead that he would make up for it, and how much he would explain— _not justify_ —his actions, no one would ever listen to him.

At this point, more punishment was a synonym for more things to be emotionless to. It was a synonym for more things to be fear once upon a time, but Yaku had experienced everything and anything his family threw at him. He got used to things, and he was impervious to it.

Still though, he was anxious. His hands needed  something to do, to prove that he wasn’t  _lazy_ , or  _spoiled_ , or  _anything _he was called. This wasn’t noticed by Lev, who was talking about the prettiness of the sky one second and the marketplace the next. 

“I’ll go get you some food.” Yaku said, standing up and walking before Lev could open his mouth again.

“What about you? You get food too!”

Yaku stilled for a second. “Oh yeah. Me too.” Then, before he jumped over the wall to the kitchen, he yelled over his shoulder. “By the way, who was that friend’s name? The one that got you here?”

It took a second for Lev to reply. “Oh! Kuroo!”

Kuroo, huh?  Yaku went to get some sandwiches and ran back to Lev.  _Interesting friend choice... but Lev is definitely trustworthy now._

He came back with the sandwiches (and some homework to do), and Lev was off petting his horse, and  _wow _he was tall. Yaku had to tilt his head a full ninety degrees to get a look at Lev’s eyes.

Lev stared down at him. Then said, “I’ve never seen any person as small as you! It’s kind of cut—“

And that, dear reader, is where Yaku kicked him in the shin.

—————-----

Kuroo had the biggest freakout of the century.

First, he couldn’t find Kenma anywhere in the crowd. Then he couldn’t find  _Lev _in the crowd, and his day got a thousand times worse, for  _where _was an  _idiot _like Lev when you need him? Then he had to figure out how the fuck to get out of a fairy dancer’s grip—fairies were the best at getting a person to stay dancing with them—and then find a place where his feet could feel at peace. 

In the mist of all of this panic, he got trapped in the crowds of people that didn’t know the definition of personal space. There, he tried to find Kenma, the only magic user he knew and trusted in the whole damn place, to get him transported to the outside of the market. There was  _no way in hell_ Kuroo was going to let Lev’s parents trap him in a castle forever, and Kuroo’s death was  _not _going to come early no matter what.

Maybe the gods had blessed him, or some kind fairies, but he had found Kenma. He was ripping himself out of a dancer’s arms, running from her, and bumped into Kuroo. They had talked, and—while Kenma still had to take care of things in the market—he transported Kuroo to Yaku’s house. He promised to transport Kuroo’s horse to the palace later, they said their goodbyes, and hugged when Kuroo asked if they could.

Upon his arrival, at about five-thirty at night, he had noticed...laughter? Was he hearing that right? Laughter?

Kuroo peaked around a corner of the stone wall.

There, Yaku was laughing—it was so unlike him that Kuroo almost cried on the spot. His loose, poofy sleeves waved around his body. There was Lev too— _thank goodness_ Kuroo’s death wasn’t coming early—who was grinning as he told a story or whatever. On closer hearing, he was talking about his interest in class structure, and how the gap could be closed. It just so happened that he was saying it in such a silly way, and yet so serious at the same time, that Yaku started laughing at it.

Yaku seemed weirdly comfortable. It was  such a change. He didn’t seem like the guy that said sorry eight times in a row, or a quiet friend that listened more than they talked. He gave sarcastic comments,  kicked  Lev when there was a mention of his height, and sighed as much as he breathed. 

Yet there was a certain sort of ease. Yaku didn’t have ‘secret-holding, nervous eyes’, as Kenma called them, not the severe defensiveness whenever he got asked even a  slightly pitying question. Sure, Yaku was tough on Lev whenever he asked a stupid or private question, but that was how Yaku was. Besides, Lev had a certain tendency to say the wrong thing at the wrong time, like asking Kuroo the first time he met him if his hair got caught in a washing machine.

Even when Lev asked stupid questions, Yaku gave him the answers with a certain sort of patience, patting his silver hair. He  _sounded _annoyed, but Yaku was stuck to Lev like glue. 

Was this how Yaku was around new people? Or did Yaku like Lev the second they met? Maybe both? This Yaku was the one that Kuroo recognized, the one from four years ago. This Yaku was the person who mothered everyone like his life depended on it, and didn’t panic every time there was an argument he couldn’t solve. He participated in conversation, and didn’t seem on edge all the time, even if asked a private question by Lev. 

Yaku seemed more comfortable than he had in years.

Kuroo got snapped out of this close observation when he realized that Lev’s hood was fully down.

“Lev!” Kuroo rushed over, throwing Lev’s hood on and sitting down with them. “We need to get home. We had enough fun for today.”

“Aww.” Lev pouted a little, hugging Yaku’s arm tighter.  _Jesus_ , how did they get  this close this quick? “But I want to stay with Yaku-san a bit more!”

“Yeah, I know. But the both of us don’t want to you to get in trouble. Your parents are shit.” Kuroo gave a pointed look at Lev, who got up. Then, Kuroo whispered, as soft as possible, to Lev, “You didn’t get recognized, did you? He only knows your first name?”

“Kuroo-san,  trust me ! I didn’t give out my last name at all. And he doesn’t recognize me at all!” Lev whispered back to him. Then, he turned to Yaku, who was finishing up homework. “Yaku-san! This is Kuroo! He’s the—“

“I help teach him, as well as the prince,” Kuroo said. He winked at Lev, who got the memo. “Yakkun, thanks for keeping this guy occupied for the last few minutes. Must have taken a lot of willpower, to deal with this guy.”

“You’re welcome. Though you must pay me for having to hear jabbering for the last half-hour.”

“Yaku-san!” 

“I’m just kidding, Mr. Skyscaper,” Yaku said, standing up. He calmed down Lev in five seconds by patting his shoulder—a world record, in Kuroo’sopinion—and turned to Kuroo. “I guess you have to take him home now, huh?”

There was something wistful in his voice. Kuroo could only think one thought:  how in the  world did _ Lev Haiba_,  _of all people_ ,  get  _Yaku Morisuke_ to like him in such a short amount of time? “Yeah. Sorry, lovebirds.”

“Ah?!”

“ _ Kuroo— “ _

“Kidding, Yakkun.” Kuroo put up his hands in surrender. “ Kidding.”

Yaku’s temper calmed. “Well, time to get moving. Lev has rich parents, right? I would imagine they wouldn’t like him out, by what you’re implying.”

“Yeah. Come on, Lev."

“Let me say goodbye to Yaku-san first!” Then, without asking, Lev turned to Yaku and held him by the shoulders. “Yaku-san! I’ll miss you a whole lot! I’ll try to visit you as much as I can!”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. And I’m not that  interesting, Lev.”

“No way! Yaku-san is cool!” Then, when Yaku took a second to hide his embarrassed face, Lev said, “And I will visit everyday! Or a lot of days at least. As much as I can!”

“You sure about that, kiddo?” Kuroo said.

“I’ll go on my own!” Lev said, over his shoulder. Then turned back to Yaku. “I like you a lot Yaku-san! You’ll miss me, right?”

“ _Stop_. You’re just infatuated,” Yaku said, looking as if he wanted the floor to swallow him up.

“You didn’t deny that you’ll miss me!” Lev said, face grinning. He whispered to himself, “Yaku-san will miss me, Yaku-san will miss me...”

“ _Stop_.” Yaku pushed Lev back a few inches, hiding his red face in his hands. “Fine. I’ll miss you. Just go.”

“Fine. But first...” And before Yaku could react, Lev threw him up in the air for a hug. Yaku struggled, but Lev was a whole lot stronger than a sixteen-year-old guy should be. Then Yaku got put down, and immediately kicked Lev in the shin. 

“Ow!”

“You don’t do that without warning, Lev!” 

“Sorry!”

“I would have accepted a hug if you had just asked...” Yaku said, crossing his arms. There was a light blush across his cheeks and _ Jesus Christ _Kuroo was _not_ believing what he was seeing.  “ Don’t scare me like that again.”

“Okay!” Lev hugged Yaku again, properly this time, and Yau had to get Lev’s sticky limbs off. “I’ll see you?”

“Yeah. Now go. I don’t want you to get in trouble cause of me, okay?” With a pat to the head, and a few shoos, Lev went on his horse and rode with Kuroo to the castle.

———-------

On the way back, Kuroo came to ask a few questions. 

“So. You really like Yakkun, huh?”

“Yeah!” Lev said, still racing with Kuroo to get home in time. His cloak flowed in the wind. “He’s cool! He laughs with me, and tells me what he wants, and punishes me. Plus, he likes my personality! That’s the best thing ever!”

“You like him _punishing_ you?” Kuroo said, a little weirded out. He adjusted his white gloves and red cloak; a difficult task, as he had to hold onto the reins. “And how the fuck do you know he likes you? You’ve known him for thirty minutes.”

“Well, I mean...he tells me when I’ve done something wrong! He doesn’t know I’m a prince, and so he doesn’t expect me to be proper or whatever. He doesn’t expect anything from me at all! It’s like a new fresh start, with him! Also, he doesn’t let me get away with stuff. You know how the palace servants are, right?”

“I get you.”

“Yeah! That’s a part of why I like you. But anyway!Yaku-san doesn’t put me up on a pedestal or anything; that’s how I know he likes me for me, and how I know who he is really like! People can be really fake to me, you know? I’m possible money and favor, in lots of people’s eyes.”

“Yeah. That sort of shit sucks. And I’m not fake to you. Am I?”

“No! But you’re a servant and he’s a stranger. I have more power over you, since I’m technically your employer, and you’re my servant.”

“A sucky job.”

“Hey!” Lev frowned. “Anyway, you kinda have to be nice to me. Cause I’m your employer and you could die if I hate you. But Yaku-san doesn’t have to be nice to me, or stay with me for a whole thirty minutes waiting for you. Yet he did. He likes me!”

“Sorry man, but Yaku is nice to _everyone_.” Kuroo caught up to Lev, horses next to each other. “Like seriously. He’s the kind of person that would probably eat needles for a random stranger to not get hurt.”

“Oh.” Lev slowed his horse down. Kuroo slowed his horse too, and Lev seemed more upset at this than he was at anything else. _ Well shit_ _,_ Kuroo thought.  _You’ve fucked shit up again, Tetsurō. The guy thinks he has a friend who likes him for him, and not status or whatever, and you ruined that. Good job!_

“Hey , Lev,” Kuroo came up to him. “Don’t take that too badly. Yaku does like you. I mean, Yaku’s been a quiet person since forever, very unlike himself, and I spotted you two in action. He’s been more himself in those few minutes than he has been in the past two years.”

“Really?” Lev’s spirits got lifted. Thank goodness it was easy to make him happy. “That’s good! He does like me!”

“Yeah, he does.” Kuroo raced ahead, and Lev tried to catch up. “Anyway, how was the first meeting?”

“He got panicked! I came out of nowhere, and stuff. And he was crying. But I stopped it—“

“Wait a sec, he was crying?”

“Yeah!” Lev said that so offhandedly, as if it was a normal occurrence to stumble upon a crying person. “But he told me to not to ask why, and I’d tried my best to not ask! And he ‘just wanted company’, so I tried my best to distract him. It seemed to work—“

“What was he crying about—“

“Kuroo, stop interrupting me! I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. Anyway! He talked a lot with me! He was a little mean when I talked about his height, but it was okay. I really like him."

“Very obvious.”

“And its really cool, to meet someone who’s not indebted or required to be nice to you, and who doesn’t know you at all! When they’re nice, they’re being genuinely nice, and when you mess up, they tell you you messed up!”

“Are you a masochist?”

“ _No_!” Lev whined. Then grinned. “And since Yaku-san doesn’t know me, I can talk to him person to person, soul to soul. No social class or anything! It’s a fresh start for me! No one knows me, and can’t expect anything from me. It’s fun!"

“I can get that.” Kuroo took a second to try to understand Lev. It could get tiring to keep up appearances—even around friends—especially if a person’s personality changed to an extreme extent. People tend to think that people are unchanging creatures—that a person would stay the same no matter what—and if a person showed signs of change, they would be asked how they changed. Over and over and over again.

He guessed that was why Lev thought of Yaku as a new beginning, of sorts—it was  crazy how easily how well they had gotten together in thirty minutes. 

(Now that he thought of it, did Yaku meet anyone new for the past four years?)

They raced their horses to the castle, and got there at half past six, just in time for dinner. Alisa was there at the gate in a pure white, long-sleeved dress, waving to them. She was so pretty that Kuroo questioned whether he was gay or not, and not for the first time.

Of course, Lev leaped off his horse as soon as he saw her, blabbering about the fun he had and hugging her with the ferocious eagerness of a lion. It was rare that Alisa had time to hang out with him anymore, and so she hugged him back just as ferociously. It was a nice sight.

Then Lev ran over to Kuroo. “Kuroo, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you—“

“Woah there.” Kuroo had to rip off Lev’s octopus arms off of him. This guy really was a child, was he? “I get it. No problem. Except when you got lost in the marketplace on me. You gave me a heart attack there.”

“Sorry!”

“Lyovochka! You got lost? You had a lot of adventures today, didn’t you?” Alisa pulled at his cheek, and Lev laughed. “Come on, let’s go to dinner. You need to tell me how your day is!”

“Of course!” Lev pulled her along, but Alisa told him to go ahead. He did, yelling about how he was going to talk to this cool author he met at the palace—a Tendou or something—running his dirty boots all over the castle’s stairs.

Alisa turned to Kuroo. “Thank you, for giving my brother some fun. Mom and Dad are too restrictive to a growing boy like him. It’s so unfair!”

“Yeah, it really is,” Kuroo said, questioning his sexuality for the fifteenth time this year. “And it’s no problem, Miss Haiba.”

“Call me Alisa, Kuroo!” Alisa went to walk to the palace, and Kuroo followed, adjusting the cuffs on his white shirt. “Honestly, I wish I could take my brother out myself, but you know queenly duties! I should really pay you for this sort of thing!”

“Ah, you really don’t need to, Miss Hai—Alisa. And it’s no problem. Lev can be a troublemaker, but he’s a good guy, you know?”

“Of course my Lyovochka is a good guy! He’s my brother, and such a cutie at that! But I must repay you in some way! You’ve done a good service, making sure he has fun and gets home safely.”

“Nah, I don’t really wish for anything, Miss—Alisa.”

“I insist!” Alisa stopped where she was, facing Kuroo. “There has to be something. I promise I’ll explain and excuse your absence.”

“Well...”

“What about coming home early, only for tonight?” _Wow_ , Kuroo can see how Alisa and Lev were related now. “Just for tonight. I will excuse you from all activities this night, and tell everyone.”

“Alright.” Kuroo said that, knowing that avoiding a Haiba’s gratitude was like avoiding death: one-hundred percent impossible.

“Thank you! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be tending to my brother.”

Kuroo bowed, watched Alisa disappear into the blinding light the castle’s inside had, and rode his way home.

—————-=====

The next day, which was a Sunday, Kuroo spotted Yaku at Nekoma’s marketplace. He pulled him into an alley, and they talked.

Kuroo may have known that Yaku and Lev would never happen. Yaku was a merchant son and Lev was a prince; it would never work out in this realistic world.

Nonetheless, he was going to tease the both of them like there was no tomorrow.

“ So ...you really liked Lev, huh?”

“Stop that grin; it makes you look creepy.” Yaku said, hiding his face in his hand. Avoiding the question: the most Yaku-esque way to not talk about something. 

“You didn’t deny it.”

“Shut up, Kuroo.”

“Ah, the momma-cat is in love! What a sight!”

“One more word and I’ll make your shins ache for days,” Yaku said, his arms crossed and eyes blazing. “And I’m not in love, Kuroo. I’m not that much of a dumbass to fall for someone in a few minutes.”

“Yeah. But the point is: you like him.” Kuroo bent down and flicked Yaku on the nose. “I haven’t seen ya laugh that much in ages. Wanna tell me?”

“I do laugh!” Again with the subject avoidance.

“You really don’t.” Kuroo was getting that worried look; he knew because of the way Yaku’s face turned to disdain. Kuroo knew he didn’t like pity, and so tried to be neutral. “But seriously, what is with the affection?

Yaku went deeper into the alleyway, arms crossed across his chest. He had a brown cloak and white shirt on. “Can’t I just like someone?”

Kuroo followed him. “There’s gotta be a reason, Yakkun. I mean, just saying, someone like you with someone like him? Your personality is pretty different from his.”

Crickets chirped. “...Fine.” Yaku walked further ahead, and Kuroo followed. To be honest, he never remembered a time Yaku didn’t take the initiative, both right then and in the past.“He’s just a new person. It’s new. When you’re with a new person, you can be entirely yourself. With people you’ve known all your life, there can be a pressure to conform to the status quo. And Lev’s a nice, cheerful guy. There isn’t much to hate. There, you happy?”

“Very much so.”

“Good. Now can I get back to grocery shopping? I need to get home.”Yaku turned back around, passing by Kuroo.

“Sure, but...” Yaku turned to look Kuroo straight in the eye, and Kuroo almost forgot what he was about to ask. “Do I—I mean, all of your friends, pressure you? For the status quo? Be honest.”

Yaku stared. And stared. Then said, “Yeah. With all the questions you guys ask about my well-being.”

Then he left, and Kuroo stood in the alleyway like an idiot.

————------

Kuroo took in those words. “With all the questions you guys ask about my well-being.” 

Kuroo, even after two years, still couldn’t figure out what was wrong with Yaku. No one could. Except maybe Kenma. But, in general, there was no one who knew what was wrong.

Yaku never allowed anyone to get into his home, and yelled away all the people that tried to follow him. He had constant dark circles under his eyes—Yaku had mentioned housework, and Yaku was in the smart classes, so maybe it was that? Yaku also grew a tendency to always do work whenever the whole “Nekoma group” (an obselete name, ever since Karasuno and Fukurōdani’s people joined) got together.

It was weird. 

But maybe he had grown overbearing, Kuroo realized. Maybe  everyone had grown overbearing. Maybe that was why Yakkun hanged out with Kai and Sugawara more. Because they were chill. They trusted he knew what he was doing by not telling anyone, and he trusted them in return.

That was the reason why there was a distance.  That was why.

That was why Yakkun wanted a new person, who didn’t know him. Cause his friends, the people who were supposed to trust him, were too overbearing.

This was something he thought about as he slept next to his BFF, Bokuto, on a sleepover that Sunday. The “Nekoma group” had a sleepover that night, with everyone packed into the huge rooms Kuroo’s house had. There were perks to having rich parents.

Kuroo grew a silent determination there, on the edge of sleep, at twelve in the morning. It was a stupid place to have such a serious thought, but...

He was going to try to chill out more. Yaku would say everything on his own terms. Kuroo would try his best to trust that Yaku knew what he was doing. If he needed help, he would have asked years ago. Yaku had enough reason to ask for help when he needed it.

Besides, it was a inefficient thing to do to pressure someone; everyone knows that, to make a person talk, making them have a choice is much more effective than pressuring them.

Kuroo went to sleep, these thoughts in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if I got my point across with Kuroo, but what I feel is important about the YakuLev meeting here: they don't know each other. They get to have a relationship with no expectations of what they're 'supposed' to be, and so they can talk soul to soul comfortably. However, that is not the only reason they like each other: they also fit together well. But I'll talk more about that in a later chapter. But I hope I didn't hammer my point in too hard; there were many times in this chapter where I was like 'is this too repetitive?' I am a little insecure on that point, I will admit.
> 
> Anyway, next chapter: we meet characters that hadn't shown up in ages, you'll hate Oikawa, and all within a chapter I consider my worst in terms of pacing and detail.


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Hinata and Tendou after so, SO long, and you’ll probably call Oikawa a piece of trash after this. Also, Kageyama cares a lot more than people think, and hardcore hates Oikawa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the worst chapter I have ever written. I hate it, or at least the first third before (spoiler alert) Hinata gets turned into a crow (end of spoiler). IDK why, I just hate the pacing and how Kageyama and Hinata and Oikawa are written (they just feel so ooc omg). Also, I feel the first third of this chapter makes no sense at all? Like how did people get so mad over volleyball? IDK, Nano has fried some sense I guess.
> 
> I like the rest though. I will warn you that this is pretty much a filler chapter. Literally the only thing that matters is the spoiler mentioned above. Why did I write a filler chapter? Idk, my fingers just move on their own. And it’s Nanowrimo. You have no fucking idea what you’re doing during Nano.
> 
> Hope you’ll enjoy though!

Dear reader, you did not forget about Hinata, did you? Or Tendou?

Hinata had went to the magical party at the marketplace as well, bringing along Kageyama, who had been with him for a total of two years now. They were both in splendid clothes, or at least as splendid as their peasant lives would allow, and went around. They ate, drank, watched, and did all of the things teenagers do.

“Dumbass!” Kageyama squeezed Hinata’s head, until Hinata grew annoyed of the pain. “It’s a terrible idea to pour water in with...whatever you have!”

“It’s lime and pineapple juice, Bakayama! And you mixed ambrosia with milk, so don’t be such a hypocrite!”

“The people here recommended it! It’s better than it sounds.”

“And it sounds disgusting!”

Kageyama let out a glare in response, and Hinata smiled at him. This was normal conversation between them, believe it or not. “Bakayama, are you going to look like that forever?”

Kageyama relaxed his face, if only cause the arguing had tired him. “Don’t make fun of my face, you idiot.”

Hinata laughed in response, and conversation flowed from Hinata’s lips, being intercepted by Kageyama’s sarcastic comments every once in a while. Then, they went on the topic of why Kageyama was invited in the first place.

“Hey, Hinata, why me?”

“Why what, Kageyama?” Hinata glanced up from his drink. They were watching a fire-eater, and Kageyama couldn’t help but notice the way Hinata’s hair was illuminated. “Bakayama?”

“Why am I here?”

“Cause I like you? Isn’t that obvious?” Hinata focused on the fire-water again. “You’re my favorite person. So I like you.”

Kageyama couldn’t understand the concept. Kageyama never had friends before Hinata, and that made him as quiet as a mouse and awkward in most situations, in contrast to the sun, Hinata. Maybe it was because of volleyball? They were good as a duo there. But you wouldn’t invite a teammate as a first choice to a party, would you?

Kageyama didn’t know. Feelings were confusing.

“Was there anyone else that wanted to go with you?” Kageyama said, a bit gruff to avoid sounding weird.

“Well...”—Kageyama prepared himself for the huge list of friends Hinata had—“Aone wanted to go, but Date Tech is a little far from here and school has been rough. Hope he’s okay! Bokuto and Akaashi-san weren’t my first choices, so I didn’t ask them. Kenma and Goshiki are trying to find me in this crowd, Suga-san had magic stuff to do, Daichi has a lot too, and Yaku-san isn’t available after four, which is sad cause he’s fun. I don’t have Inuoka’s address, and Tanaka and Noya-san are cool, but you were my first choice and you accepted so...”

Kageyama? First choice? Huh. Kageyama had to think about that later. Didn’t help the weird happy feeling he got though.

“Bakayama? You spacing out again?” Hinata gazed at him with squinty eyes.

“It’s nothing, idiot.” It was then that the music indicating the dancers’ arrival began, and the both of them held on to each other as to not get lost in the crowd. Hinata held on a little tighter though;  _not _because he liked Kageyama or anything, but because there were millions of people with black hair like Kageyama, and Hinata wasn’t going to lose him!

The dancing began, and it looked so fun. Kageyama didn’t want to join—everything was tiring and boring in comparison to volleyball, and he could get lost— but Hinata had such a sweet face, and was so excited and happy and grinning—

Yeah, Kageyama had to admit to himself: Shouyou was going to be the death of him.

Unfortunately, Kageyama would learn that allowing Hinata to dance would be his worst mistake.

It should be noted, dear reader, that both Hinata and Kageyama have no knowledge of the magical world, and are one-hundred percent human. This was okay when interacting with the marketplace—the non-magical were welcome—but all of the dancers were fairies. Trickster fairies. 

And one knows how much trickster fairies loved to dance to death.

They were separated; that was their first mistake. 

The second mistake:  Kageyama danced with Oikawa. The fairy that could rot forests in an instant. And Kageyama didn’t know how to dance. At all. And Kageyama didn’t know how to talk to another person, at all.

This ended up with Kageyama stepping on Oikawa’s toes, with Oikawa yelping every so often. There were insults exchanged, with Oikawa screaming how terrible of a dancer Kageyama was and Kageyama yelling that he was trying his best. And then conversation got onto  volleyball ...

Oikawa couldn’t believe that any person could be as good at being setter like he was (‘I hadn’t gotten time to practice in the past twenty-five years, but I still have seventy-five years under my belt!’),  and Kageyama wasn’t going to take his pride as a setter lightly. No matter how much he wanted to ask tips from a fairy who played it for  _seventy-five years_ — if _only_ Kageyama had that long to play!—he was  not about to be insulted like that.

Both parties walked away frustrated, annoyed, and pissed. To say the least, they were going to be life-long enemies.

At the same time, Tendou was dancing with Hinata. It was a lot more fun than Tendou expected; Hinata was energetic, and matched up to Tendou’s energy perfectly. He would have liked to have a another dance, but that was when Oikawa came storming through the marketplace with a dark face and ruined turquoise boots. People made way; he was a familiar face, and a feared one at that.

Tendou bowed to Hinata, ending the dance, and turned to Oikawa. “Hey, why the long face?”

“Nothing you should know about,  _spectra_ ,” Oikawa said, venom leaking into his words. He fixed up his pinstripe suit—white with turquoise stripes—and adjusted his turquoise cloak with a certain sort of force. It was kinda creepy how he managed to maintain a perfect smile. “Run to Ushiwaka-chan, hmm? Ruin his career.”

Tendou knew this attitude was just a part of the monster called ‘Oikawa-when-he’s-pissed’, but he could feel anger rising anyway. “Well, at least he’s better company than you. And more powerful, too.”

“ _Say that to me again ,  Tendou Satori_ _._ ”

“Oh, there are people, are there not?”

Tendou could see how the only thing holding Oikawa back was the people around them. If there was something Oikawa hated more than anything, it was having dirt on his reputation. That, and the disappointment of his beloved “Iwa-chan”.

“Calm yourself down, Oikawa,” Tendou said, knowing that asking Oikawa Tooru to ‘calm down’ would make him even angrier. Hey, his job as a trickster fairy was, in its most basic form, pissing people off. It was in Tendou’s nature to taunt. Then he spotted Hinata.

And that was where mistake number three came in. While it, on a technicality, didn’t affect  _fate _much, it effected many  _people_.

Tendou could see the red string of fate in his mind; Hinata was going to go and dance with some random dude. But, then, Tendou thought this: what if he danced with the angry Oikawa?

So he went turned to Oikawa and said, “Why don’t you dance with his boy for fun? He’s fun, and I can promise you that.”

“Why should I?”

“Well, do you want to go home?”

“Hell no.”

“Then go with him then. What’s the harm?”

“Knowing you’re a spectra, probably a lot.”

“Well...I can’t fault you for thinking that.” Even trickster fairies were wary of their own kind. Curses and trickery were horrifying no matter who the person receiving it was. In all honesty, Tendou only provoked Oikawa because he knew he could get away with it; Oikawa, when in the mood, could conjure up some  terrible curses. “But come on. It’s not going to be bad.”

Oikawa still had a face that could murder someone, but was a bit more on the annoyed side, and not on the irritated-to-the-point-of-hating-the-world side. “Fine. Hey, you. Shrimp-chan! Dance with me!”

“Eh? I’m not a shrimp!”

And Hinata and Oikawa danced. Tendou heard, in his mind, the satisfying snap of a string of destiny. That sound was almost like a drug to him, but he had enough of it today, and so he left to the castle. He had met a particular boy there, one with silver hair, who loved his books. Maybe he was conceited, but he loved how much that boy appreciated his books.

Meanwhile, Oikawa danced with Hinata. However, his style was technical and practiced, while Hinata did as he wished and made things up on the spot. These styles did not mix well, and they began arguing over the ‘right’ way to dance. 

It should be noted here that both had incredible senses of pride, and that was why they argued. Hinata wasn’t going to be considered ‘lesser’ by any means—he had enough of that from people who saw his height and underestimated him—and Oikawa was the same. He was high on the social ladder, in both the fairy and human world, and he wasn’t going to let any random boy make him question that.

At some point, Oikawa yelled out, “You’re just like that stupid black-haired guy!”

“Who?”

“Why would you care? Do you like blue eyes?”

“...Did this guy have an orange vest?”

“He did! Is he your friend?”

“Yes! We gone with each other!”

“Well that explains the stupidity of the both of you!”

“ _Kageyama isn’t stupid!”_

“Both of you inherited terrible dance skills.”

And things spiraled down from there. 

Hinata wasn’t going to take Kageyama being insulted, and Oikawa wasn’t going to take his pride having a beating.

And so their insults turned so intense, that the both of them had to take it to a alleyway. Then it spiraled to them insulting each other’s volleyball skills, and insulting friends, and then came to them discriminating against each other.

And it grew to a head, and Oikawa, in a fit of rage, cursed Hinata to be a bird. A black crow, to be exact, and he would be one until he had picked at and sorted a million lentils.

(Even when angry, Oikawa had a thing for flair.)

When Oikawa was done, he had a black crow in his hand, who immediately starting squawking in panic. Only magic users could understand animals, and Oikawa could hear the unbearable sound of people saying “what just happened?” on repeat.

“You don’t fucking say that I’m a ‘ _untrustworthy fairy’_ , Shrimp-chan.” Oikawa said, fingers brushing along rough feathers. Hinata fell over, onto the ground, and Oikawa laughed. Hinata squawked, and Oikawa added, “Just flap your wings.”

Hinata still squawked, and got onto his feet, but couldn’t fly no matter how hard he flapped his wings. Oikawa watched the scene, amused, and was about to leave the guy. But then his some, strange part of his subconscious spoke to him.

_At least teach him to fly. And get some crows with him too_.  Oikawa wasn’t sure what good part of him left said that—he thought he left that long ago, when he turned from a human into a fairy—but some part of him still felt guilty for wanting to leave Hinata.

Dear reader, understand that pride is a sin, and that Oikawa had much pride. As a high-rank fairy, and a trickster one at that, he was allowed to get away with many things. This was also a time where the human and fairy relations were strained, and suspicion ran high. Oikawa had thought Hinata as lower because he was human—which was wrong—but Hinata had also discriminated against Oikawa and called him untrustworthy, which also should have not been done. This didn’t mean he should have been turned into a crow, but both were at fault.

None of this would have happened in a normal situation. Anger did not run this high for the both of them, and they wouldn’t have said the words they had said. But they had said those words, tensions ran high, and they both had to deal withthe price.

\-----—————

Sugawara did not expect a vine wrapping around him and carrying him to a marketplace at six in the evening, but there were stranger things that happened.

Oikawa dragged him there, where there was a black crow on the ground. He explained the curse (Sugawara didn’t know how Oikawa came up with ‘sorting a thousand lentils’, but it happened), and forced Suga to turn into crow form.

And Suga found that Oikawa had turned Hinata into a crow.

Suga took the time to punch him in the face and yell at him about the responsibilities of being a powerful being. He _would_ have yelled more about how much of an ass Oikawa was, but he had to comfort Hinata, who was crying as much as a bird could. 

In no time, Hinata learnt how to fly, and peck at Oikawa’s face. Sugawara laughed, and then took him home.

(And, in the process, if Sugawara threatened to tell Oikawa’s beloved ‘Iwa-chan’ about what he did, no one had to know.)

———----

Kageyama couldn’t find Hinata anywhere.

He crawled through food stands, slithered his way through dancers, but  he couldn’t find orange hair—

And he searched for  hours. He searched when his limbs felt like they were permanently imprinted by the arms of other people, when his feet felt like dying, when all of the marketplace shut down. He checked when the marketplace was empty, and everyone put away their wares, when there was no one but himself and a beggar.

If Hinata had simply went home without him, Kageyama was  so _going to_ _kill him—_

And then he was shooed out of the marketplace. Left in the outskirts of a forest. Alone.

He was supposed to be with Hinata. They were supposed to be  together, because that’s what people who had been on  _sports teams_ , in  _friend groups_ , who were each other’s best friends  _do_. If they walked to a place, they would walk back together.

So where in the living hell was Shouyou?

He rushed home, almost slamming the door to Hinata’s house open. Hinata’s parents looked up, asked why Hinata wasn’t with him.

Kageyama’s heart stopped.

_Where was Shouyou?_

The rest of the night was spent knocking on people’s doors.  All of this was his fault, _if he hadn’t danced—_

And then he knocked on Suga-san’s door. His breath was coming out in torrents, his heart was racing, and  _ when was Suga-san going to open the door —_

And Suga-san opened the door, a black crow on his hand. He was in his pajamas—it was about ten at night—and then he saw Kageyama. He probably looked like a mess, but he didn’t care.

“Suga-san! Do you...” Kageyama took the time to catch his failing breath, and Suga-san patted his back to calm him. Kageyama had to lean against the doorway, and the black crow landed on his shoulder. Kageyama shooed it away, but it kept cawwing at him. “Suga-san, please get this crow away from me.”

“Come on,” Suga-san beckoned it over, but it stayed put on Kageyama’s shoulder. “Well, looks like the little crow will stay there. Now, why are you here?”

“Where’s Shouyou?” Kageyama said, so out of breath he looked to be dying. “No one has seen him anywhere, and I swear when I see him again, I will fucking _cry_ at how much of an _idiot_ he is for _not telling me where he was—“_

Suga-san had a sad face for a moment. Then, he held out his hand for the black crow, who hopped onto it. Suga held the crow out for Kageyama. “Hinata is right here, Kageyama. The one you’ve just told to go away.”

Kageyama stared. And stared. Then whispered about how that was impossible. He held out his hand for the crow— Hinata —and held it up to his face.  _“How?”_

Kageyama said that so softly, Sugawara almost didn’t hear it. Then, Kageyama stroked Hinata’s feathers with a carefulness only found in skilled craftsmen. Sugawara said, “Fairy Oikawa turned him into a crow. Apparently, Hinata and Oikawa got into a major fight, and Oikawa got so mad that...this happened.”

“Who’s this Oikawa?” Kageyama had the face of someone that wanted to kill, and Sugawara chose his next words as carefully as possible.

“Again, Kageyama, he’s a fairy. A high-rank one too. You don’t mess with the magic folk.” Sugawara pointed at himself. “Especially if you don’t know the full extent of their power.”

“At least give this Oikawa a piece of my mind for me, Suga-san.” Kageyama didn’t know Sugawara was a fairy, and not just a shapeshifter, but he did know that Sugawara had connections. He petted Hinata again, and Hinata cawed in happiness.

“...You don’t know who Oikawa is, do you?”

Kageyama ignored him. “If you are Hinata, peck me for yes and shake your head for no. Did you give me volleyball magazines from fifty years ago for my last birthday?”

Hinata pecked his arm. “Okay, did you eat Tamago Kake Gohan like a pig that one time I came over for breakfast?”

Hinata shook his head so hard it could have flown off of his body. “Yes you did, dumbass!” Hinata started biting at Kageyama’s shirt collar, making him laugh a little. “Yes you did. Don’t deny it, dumbass.”

Kageyama, now assured that this was Hinata and not Sugawara thinking it was Hinata, turned to Sugawara. “What does this Oikawa look like? I need to...talk to him.”

“Kageyama! He’s so powerful that it would be a stupid move to try to even be in his presence! But I have to ask: you sincerely don’t know who he is?”

“No.”

“But you still want to fight him?”

“Yes.”

Sugawara ran his hands through his hair. _Kids these days..._ "You have to know who Oikawa is. He’s the fairy that has been romancing girls for years. The one that made that magical hazel forest.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Well, you have to know his face!” Sugawara said. How in the ever loving world did Kageyama not know who Oikawa was?  Children were told to avoid Oikawa for god sakes. Then again, Kageyama only ever cared about volleyball...”You know. Brown hair and eyes, white suit with turquoise pinstripes, turquoise cloak—“

“The guy I danced with?” And this, dear reader, was where Kageyama’s mutual rivalry with Oikawa came into place. “More reasons to hate him.”

“ _You’ve danced with him?_ ”

“At the marketplace set up for today.”

“Oh.” Sugawara said. Kageyama didn’t seem as angry now, choosing to allow Hinata to bounce all over his arms instead. “Do you want me to translate what he’s saying?”

“Hmm?”

“Magic users can understand animals. At least, most of us can. And there are some questions you can’t make yes or no questions out of, so—“

“Can’t he just spell things out in the dirt or something?”

“That would take too long.”

A pause. “Good point, Suga-san.” Kageyama then sat down, and Sugawara sat down with him too. Then, Kageyama, with Hinata on his shoulder, asked, “Is there any way to reverse the curse?”

“Well, there is, but it sounds stupid.”

“Who cares if it’s stupid. It’ll get Hinata to be human again.” 

“Good point, Kageyama.” Suga said. “He has to pick and sort a million lentils.”

“Lentils?”

“A type of legume.”

“...What’s a legume?”

“Like the sort of foods that grows in pods.” When Kageyama still had a blank look, Suga explained, “Like peanuts or peas. Those grow in pods, and we take the food out to eat. Lentils are seeds that are disk shaped, basically.”

“Well, why don’t we go and buy lentils first thing in the morning?” Kageyama said, standing up. “Then, this dumbass would learn his lesson, sort all of those lentils, and then he’ll be human again.”

“It’s not that easy.” Suga-san pulled him down. “Do you realize how much a million lentils is?”

Kageyama shook his head. “Let’s day that a bag of lentils cost a dollar. Let’s say that each bag has about two-hundred seeds. You would have to buy fifty-thousand bags for a million seeds for Hinata to sort. And to sort from what? You have to add something else in with the lentils for it to be considered ‘sorting’. And it would be wasteful to have a million lentils to not be eaten.”

“Well, _I don’t know!_ I just want Shouyou to be human!” Kageyama said, upset. Hinata nuzzled Kageyama’s cheek with his wing. “...Sorry, Suga-san.”

“I can understand what you feel.” Sugawara held out his hand for Hinata, and Hinata hopped on. “I do wish to slap Oikawa too. Though, if it helps, he is a little regretful.”

“A little?”

“That’s what he told me, anyway. But, then again, considering his sort of pride, it’s something. He usually doesn’t admit to being wrong. It’s just how he is.” Sugawara said. “When he says he’s even a little regretful, he really means it.

“But Kageyama, we’ll talk tomorrow. It’s getting late. A boy like you shouldn’t be up so late!”

“But—"

“Go!” Suga pushed Kageyama out of the door, silver hair flying around his face. “I promise you that we’ll come up with a plan for Hinata tomorrow, okay?”

And without waiting for an answer, Sugawara slammed the door on Kageyama.

As Kageyama walked home, he tried thinking of a world where Hinata wasn’t talking to him—or to  anyone , for that matter—or a world where Hinata didn’t do his quick, or smiled, or  _wasn’t there_. He tried thinking of a world where Hinata  couldn’t talk, or say stupid things to Kageyama again, or to Tsukishima, or  with Tanaka and Noya-san.

Even thinking of a world where  Hinata was a fucking crow was impossible. How could he ever think of a world where Hinata _couldn’t_ _ talk_?

How could there be a world where Hinata didn’t randomly hug him in the middle of sentences?

But he was in that world, and there was nothing he could do about it.

—————-

Hinata got popular with the local crows  very quickly.

And every bird imaginable, for that matter. 

There were flocks of birds that followed him everywhere, which made it hard for Hinata to watch Karasuno’s volleyball matches. He got the best views though, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but it was a big deal when he tried to ‘talk’ with his friends.

Hinata watched his friends have conversations and play volleyball without him for solid weeks. He watched Sugawara struggle to keep up with translating his caws. And there was a sense of overwhelming guilt whenever Kageyama admitted to him that he was  so panicked and scared the day he couldn’t find Hinata.

(At one point, Hinata apologized to Oikawa, for being discriminatory. And Oikawa...apologized back, after some difficulty saying ‘sorry’ out loud. And Oikawa even allowed his arms to be pecked at after Hinata said it was the only way to be forgiven. Which was  _hilarious_ , but Oikawa’s regret must have been severe, considering that he complained only once the entire five minutes he was pecked at.)

His parents did the best they could to buy as many lentils as their hands could carry, but they were poor, and his father’s job as a therapist had fallen into hard times. His friends tried their absolute best too, and a entire room in Kuroo’s huge house was used to house the lentils (kept in a glass box until they figured out what to do with them).

Everyone agreed that no more food than needed necessary was to be wasted, so Hinata should sort lentils and non-food objects mixed together. Oikawa had mentioned that, by ‘sort’, he meant powders and/or tiny objects like beads mixed in with the lentils, so everyone was to get that.

After people had gotten enough pebbles (and Natsu, Hinata’s dearest little sister, gotten some of her play beads), they mixed it with the box full of lentils and poured it out. Hinata thanked everyone who had helped him—what did he  _do _to  deserve so many people’s  love? He had no idea, but he was thankful—by nuzzling their cheeks and heads. Then he got to sorting, and he was left alone, Kuroo banning anyone from coming inside.

Oikawa said that the lentils must be sorted by Hinata, or else it wouldn’t count towards as ‘sorted’ lentils. And so Hinata sorted for three straight days and nights, resting only when he got bored. Eventually, his friends came to check up on him every few hours and to fill the silence, as promised. The only sounds were of Hinata picking up lentils to go to the right side of the room and Kageyama—mostly Kageyama visited, as his friends had busy lives and/or lived far from Karasuno village—trying to talk. 

It was tedious, but Hinata had to remind himself that so many people had sacrificed so much to make him human again. And so he pecked and pecked.

And then he was done. All of the lentils were sorted in the bowls on the right side of the room, while the pebbles and beads were thrown over to the left side. 

Oikawa was the one visiting when Hinata had finished, and he clapped, for Hinata had been sorting for a straight week. “Shrimp-chan! Good job!”

“How many more do I have to sort?” Hinata asked. Honestly, what he had sorted felt like two million already, but he didn’t feel himself becoming human.

Oikawa frowned, and played with the pinstripe collar of his suit. Hinata wasn’t sure if fairies wore the same thing all the time, or if Oikawa just had a few million versions of the same suit. “You have exactly 743,932 lentils left to sort.”

“Aww!”

“Yeah. I  really fucked you over, huh, Shrimp-chan?

Hinata started to peck at Oikawa’s face. “Don’t do that! You’ll ruin my face! Fine! I won’t call you Shrimp-chan!”

Hinata stopped. At this point, he wasn’t really  that angry at Oikawa for cursing him. Perhaps  other people  would have held a grudge, but at least sorting a million lentils was something that could be  _done_ , unlike killing a dragon with a plunger. Hinata had  _actually _heard that someone was cursed to die unless they could kill a dragon with a plunger; he felt bad for that woman. 

Hinata wasn’t an angry person at heart anyway, and Oikawa was nice when not pissed off, so it didn’t bother him much. Besides, Natsu could now say, with one-hundred percent seriousness, that her brother was a crow once.  _That _would be a funny story to tell.

“I’ll admit, Shrimp-chan...the amount of people you have in your life that love you is impressive. They managed to get over twenty-thousand seeds for you. That is impressive.” Oikawa set Hinata down on the floor. “Maybe getting more seeds won’t be as hard as I thought.”

“ _More_ seeds?” Hinata cawed out. “Can’t we just reuse these ones?”

“No, Shrimp-chan.” And Oikawa had the decency to be a little sorry, petting Hinata’s head. “You have already sorted those seeds, so they can’t be resorted. You need new seeds. Clean and donate these lentils.”

“But that costs a lot of money! And everyone bought all they could!”

“Sorry, Shrimp-chan. I really fucked you over.” Oikawa said, offering a place on his lap. Hinata hopped on, and got petted. “I didn’t want to say it to you, but it’s the truth. You’re probably going to be in this form for a year.”

“Does anyone else know?”

Oikawa’s hands stopped, and then went back to caressing Hinata’s feathers. “No.”

“Even Kageyama-kun?”

“Yes, even Tobio-chan.” Oikawa said ‘Tobio-chan’ with a particular venom. “By the way, have you told him to stop hating me? I get that I’ve done a bad thing, and you’ve already forgiven me.”

“I have.” Kageyama did not, in any way, forgive Oikawa for cursing Hinata. When Hinata told everyone to give Oikawa a break, everyone but Kageyama dealt with Oikawa’s presence. And, apparently, their dance was horrible, so there was that. “But don’t be too mad at Kageyama-kun. He’s just used to me talking and hugging and doing my thing, and you have kinda removed that.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” Oikawa moved to get up, and Hinata flew into the air. “Anyway, I’ll go get Kuroo and we’ll tell him what we’ve just learnt, alright?”

Hinata cawed in response.

—————-

Sugawara took Hinata. 

He took care of him, and told everyone that he found a place where Hinata could sort lentils. Therefore, they didn’t need to buy more.

Of course, this was protested by people who didn’t like how vague Sugawara was about that, but Hinata (through Kenma speaking for him) backed Sugawara up. Hinata said that Sugawara was telling the truth, and, after much convincing, everyone else decided to trust the two of them.

Dear reader, you have figured it out, haven’t you? The place Sugawara talked of? It was Yaku’s house. 

Hinata practiced his sorting skills there. He learnt to sort faster and faster, learnt better methods, until he could sort a whole bagful of lentils in less than a half hour. Of course, he had to ‘practice’ whenever Yaku wasn’t home, but Suga, in crow form, always snuck him in.

Hinata learnt to not question why there were lentils in the fireplace. Sugawara looked sad whenever he asked, and so he stopped.

It was amazing how there were always new lentils though. Hinata had checked with Oikawa, and the number of lentils he had to sort was—slowly but surely—decreasing. It helped that Yaku always cleaned and ate the lentils after they were done, and his family had to buy more. Which was disgusting—Yaku-san is supposed to be better than that, or so Hinata thought—but Sugawara said to not question it. 

Yaku caught them in February, two months after the marketplace incident. He had came home to the kitchen with Suga, Hinata sorting, and fifteen million other birds outside the window. 

There was screaming. But then Yaku saw the neat pile of sorted lentils, and assumed that White Crow was simply trying to help him. With that, he allowed Hinata and Suga to do their thing, and it became a part of the routine.

———-----------------

You didn’t forget about Tendou, did you, reader?

The day after he went to the magic marketplace, he had went back to his beloved home in the fairy kingdom. The human world could only amuse him for so long!

He was riding high on the praises that silver-haired boy gave him as he chopped up dinner. Just ambrosia-laced soup—nothing out of the ordinary. He then saw the time: half past five.

It was time to visit Wakatoshi-kun. Tendou glanced at the soup, which would be cooking for the next thirty minutes.

Eh. It could wait. It would just be a quick trip. No biggie.

He put on his cloak and went on his way to the fairy castle.

This was a regular routine. Why did it have to be Tendou visiting Wakatoshi, instead of the other way around? Well, Wakatoshi was kept inside the castle all of the time, as to make sure that all visions of the future would be kept by only the fairy council and Wakatoshi himself. It was stupid, Tendou thought, for he had never met a person more serious about his job than Wakatoshi. But Wakatoshi wasn’t allowed outside of the castle, and so it  had to be Tendou visiting him.

Now, Tendou knew he could get killed for this. Tendou didn’t know anything about Wakatoshi’s visions—he never got any names, and he wouldn’t mess with the  important visions. Tendou was good at repressing his trickster tendencies for Wakatoshi’s sake. But the fairy council would definitely kill him, as any person got too close to Wakatoshi had one-hundred precent classified information, or so they thought.

It was bad of them, to make Wakatoshi much lonelier than he had to be. And it was bad that they trusted Wakatoshi, the most trustworthy guy Tendou had known, less than one would trust a venomous snake.

Tendou got into the castle, and sneaked into Wakatoshi’s bedroom. There, Wakatoshi was finishing up paperwork at his desk as always, and left the door open this time.

Tendou made sure to lock the door and to make the walls soundproof with his magic. Thank god Wakatoshi was a quiet person, or people would have gotten suspicious about the lack of sound. “Wakatoshi-kun! How’s life? Anything new in the vision world? Anything new in general?”

“Life’s fine.” Wakatoshi allowed Tendou’s arms to wrap around his neck, and for Tendou’s head to rest on top of his. “Nothing new. But I need to talk to you about something.

“Oh?” This was new.

“ You made Oikawa dance with a Hinata Shouyou, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Hinata Shouyou is now a crow. Oikawa’s anger from his last dance transferred to his argument with Hinata, and he cursed him.”

“Well, isn’t that a bad thing?” Tendou rubbed his thumb on Wakatoshi’s neck. “But why did you need to tell me that?”

“The prince’s prophecy will take a little longer than usual.”

“Oh.” Tendou’s hands tensed. “Sorry, Wakatoshi-kun.”

“No. It’s fine. It’s only a minor change.“ Wakatoshi tilted his head back, so that his eyes met Tendou’s. “You’ve made someone’s life better, so it is nothing to be sorry about.”

“Ah. Really?” Tendou came back to his smiling self again, his hands relaxing. “Well, don’t scare me like that again Wakatoshi-kun! I thought I had really fucked up!”

“Another thing.”

“Oh?”

“You were interacting with Lev Haiba.”

“When?” Tendou searched up all of the people he had interacted with that day. Nothing. 

“The silver-haired boy. That boy.”

“THAT WAS THE PRINCE?”

“Yes,” Wakatoshi said, without reacting. 

“Holy Christ, that was the  prince ? But I would have expected someone lonelier and moodier, considering his parents! He’s too cheerful !”

“I can see how that is confusing. I had seen you were interacting with him a week ago.” Wakatoshi has finished his work and started to put it away, all while having Tendou’s arms glued to his neck.

“Huh? A week ago? Why didn’t you tell me? I talked with him a lot you know!”

Wakatoshi was silent for a few moments, as if gathering his thoughts. Then, when he had put the last of his work in his drawer, he said, “You like people complimenting your work."

The candle’s wick burned out. Then, Tendou’s head went down to Wakatoshi’s shoulder. “...Ah, is that it?”

“Yes. You didn’t break any strings of fate, so I cannot be angry.”

“And if I did? If I did, I would have caused some serious trouble for you!”

“You would have not known you were talking with the prince. Therefore, I wouldn’t have been angry.”

Tendou took the time to give a real smile to Wakatoshi. “Thanks Wakatoshi-kun.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tendou saw the time. Five-fifty. If he didn’t come home soon, his house would be burned down. He explained it to Wakatoshi, who allowed him to leave. Before Tendou left, he said this:

“Hey, Wakatoshi-kun? Want some soup too?”

“It would be dangerous and inconvenient to carry boiling-hot soup from your home to the palace.”

Tendou snickered, if only because it was in his nature to do so. And because Wakatoshi being very serious never got old. “I could figure something out. Do some spells. What do ya think?”

Wakatoshi’s back was still turned away form Tendou. After some consideration, he nodded, and Tendou escaped from the bedroom (making sure that no one was outside to see him, of course).

Tendou ran back. He was a little sorry that he almost messed shit up for Wakatoshi—he didn’t know that that silver-haired boy was the prince! Honest! He wouldn’t have met Lev if he knew. 

But he wasn’t sorry for causing Hinata’s curse. It was cruel sounding, but he had fun breaking that particular string of fate. Besides, he knew that the boy would figure shit out, and so didn’t allow himself to feel sorry. If he felt sorry every time he do his job as a trickster fairy (or, as a spectra, for that matter), he would have been a crying mess by this point.

Well, Wakatoshi said that everything was going to turn out fine. If Wakatoshi said it, then it was going to happen, and Tendou knew that. Even if Wakatoshi wasn’t a seer, Tendou would still trust him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I did characterization *somewhat* right. I can't help but feel that Ushiwaka talked a little too much in this chapter, and Tendou wasn't as (for lack of a better word) crazy as I wished him to be. And DO NOT get me started on Kageyama and Hinata and Suga in this chapter. I HATE the fact they don't feel like themselves; they sound like robots. What do you think?
> 
> EDIT: I know it had been 2 months since I’ve updated but I’m finally getting inspiration and motivation since yesterday, 1/14/20! The next chapter will be long as hell but I hope that anyone who reads (and comments ;) ) will enjoy it. Even though I can’t write romance for shit Hahahaha....


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaku and Lev interact. I, the author, hope it is romantic enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Two months without uploading,
> 
> She comes back with a chapter,
> 
> That no one even wanted,
> 
> She’s not not a challenge to drag”  
> Okay okay I’ll stop with the Daniel Howell stuff. But seriously, is anyone reading this? I honestly don’t think anyone has read beyond the 2nd chapter.
> 
> So I haven’t uploaded in literally 2 months. Fuck me, but also fuck school and my motivation. And also, this hadn’t gotten any comments, so I suppose that if I want to be seen again, might as well update and get on the front page. I know that this story is the worst thing I’ve ever wrote, but I have to get it off my chest so that I can actually edit it. If you got here, thank you, I’ll marry you in another life.
> 
> Anyway, let’s get on with the chapter! :D

It was the early days of January, and Yaku had already gotten used to staying up til midnight to talk with Lev.

It was a new year, and Yaku had to clean up after Anya and Ivy, who partied all night when Stepmother and Father were away yet again. He had to sweep all of the stupid streamers and cake crumbs, while they watched with apple juice in their hands. Father and Stepmother weren’t there for Christmas and New Years, so it made the twins much more irritable than usual.

There were no Christmas gifts for him when Father and Stepmother came back. He knew, from four years of experience, that he shouldn’t have expectations, but it still hurt. It still stung a little when Ivy and Anya were showered with presents. 

He guessed that his “Christmas present” for the year...was Lev. A late Christmas gift, and one from the heavens, but a gift nonetheless. 

The first (or rather, second) time Lev came over, he came at the wrong time. Yaku had to shoo him out the door before his family knew that he had an actual life outside of school and them. After dinner had ended—and Yaku’s heart calmed down from how close he was to getting Lev in trouble—it was hammered into Lev’s brain that he had to come before four, or after ten in the evening. 

(Thank the great gods that his family all slept at early bedtimes.)

After ten just  had to be the most convenient time for Lev. Yaku had little sleep as it was, but Lev just  had to be charming, and just  had to be good to talk to despite the many times that he commented on Yaku’s height . He just had to be a good person.

But, slight fury at himself for sacrificing sleep aside—it wasn’t Lev’s fault that Yaku wasn’t sleeping, no matter how much sleep Yaku denied himself—talking to Lev was nice. He could show his true self, and not have to worry about Lev worrying over him. A  lot of things went over Lev’s head. If Lev started to worry, Yaku could explain things away or say he wasn’t comfortable talking about it, and Lev was understanding. Which was surprising; Lev seemed like the type to like to be in other people’s business. Lev’s understanding was one of the top reasons why Yaku liked him; he understood that Yaku trusted him, and would talk about things when the time was right.

Yaku hadn’t been able to be this free around another person in ages.

Lev talked about everything and anything with a passion rivaled only by romantic lovers. He talked about the sky, the fun he had with his sister, fun historical events, how boring Kuroo was when he talked about biology, the pretty things he saw on the way to Yaku’s house—

He talked a lot. Lev had the ability to talk about fifteen topics in one ‘sentence’, but it was somehow...endearing. Sweet. Yaku didn’t know what to call it. It wasn’t as if Lev did all the talking though; he always made room for Yaku to talk, which was considerate.

It was both pleasurable and uncomfortable when Lev paid all of his attention on him. Those green eyes should  not be so intense. It was good to know that Lev wanted to know what he thought—Yaku had gotten used to being ignored in his home—but the staring was...creepy. Not in the scary way, but in the ‘why-does-he-like-me-so-much’ way. 

Yaku wasn’t that good of a person, right? He was boring in comparison to someone like Lev. He nagged at him, kicked his shin one too many times, was too sarcastic...

One day, when it was a cool night outside, he asked about his good qualities. “What are you talking about? You’re the greatest!”

“But why?” Yaku had heard this way too many times to count—it was just infatuation, right?

“Hmm?” Lev had scooted over to him, confused. “Well, first of all, you don’t hate me for being talkative and accidentally insulting you a lot. And people back home are a bit fake, you know?” He had pushed his knees up to his chest, looking way smaller than he was usually. “I’m rich. Most people pretend they like me. And the servants have to be nice to me. But I can get real opinions and friendship here. I don’t have to fear that you may only like me for my status cause you don’t know who I am.”

“Oh.” And Yaku shouldn’t have expected anything. Lev liked him for being in the right place at the wrong time. Not for any real personality.

And Lev asked, “Yaku-san? Did I say something wrong again, Yaku-san?”

And in all technicality he didn’t say anything wrong, but Yaku found himself blurting out, “Is there any other reason you like me?”

“Well...” Lev started thinking. “There’s a lot of reasons, but...I think your talking style is cool and funny. I don’t really get sarcasm, but it’s obvious and fun when you do it. And you care for me a lot. I try to eat as much as I can before I sneak out, but you do everything to make sure I eat and drink enough. And you praise me when I do stuff I consider impressive, even though it’s not that impressive in hindsight! That’s really nice of you!”

“You like me caring for you?”

“Yeah!” Lev said, grinning. His hood was down, and the moon shone on his pale face. “ And  you’re honest too!”

“I’m as honest as you are quiet.” Yaku patted down his shirt, embarrassed by the shower of compliments.

“No! I mean, like, you tell me exactly what your opinion is and it’s fun! And you take things so serious too! Unlike me. I like that part of you. And there’s the fact that you allowed me to come over at ten in the evening—“

“Stop.” Yaku hid his face in his knees. “And that’s just because it was the only convenient time to visit.”

(He became acutely aware of the fact that it was probably past midnight.)

“But you accepted lack of sleep over me not coming to see you. You value your sleep a lot. You always tell me to go home and sleep, and complain that you’re sleepy, but you never actually push me away, huh?” It was almost  infuriating how accurate Lev was. Why did he have to be smart in  emotional sense, and not  common sense?

“Shut up. I get it. You like me.” And that was that conversation. The conversation that boosted Yaku’s self-confidence up a few notches.

And then there was the conversation about the hazel tree, and White Crow in extension. It happened when Lev wanted a tour of Yaku’s garden, and, after a few pleadings, Yaku relented.

“It gives wishes? The bird?” When Yaku nodded, Lev smiled even wider in excitement, if that was possible. “What do you wish for? Snacks? Maybe some games? Toys? Luck?”

“No.” Yaku put his hands up in surrender. “I don’t ask for a lot.”

“But why? You could get so much stuff!” Lev was confused. “You could get literally anything, and you’re restraining yourself.”

“I don’t know.” Yaku actually did know: he would feel as selfish and horrible as his stepfamily deemed him if he had asked for more than he needed. Even when he asked for some food (so he didn’t have to use Ginger to run to the marketplace), he still felt guilty. Besides, White Crow was getting its stuff from  somewhere , and it was still  a bird . “I don’t need more than I have.” That was the truth. “And White Crow can’t be burdened too much. It’s just a bird.”

“...I guess it is just a bird. Thanks for explaining, Yaku-san!” Yaku smiled at the grin Lev had afterwards, so self-satisfied. 

—————————————————————

It was one day in February when Yaku had noticed that the pigeons weren’t in the pigeon coop, as they always were. A lightning strike of fear stroke his heart. His family was going to kill him—

And then he saw the pigeons on the house roof, looking through the kitchen windows. They were staring. They weren’t moving at all, but when they spotted Yaku, they flew into their coop as fast as they could. The pigeons even locked the lock too; Yaku made a note to change out the lock as soon as possible.

But then he saw the  hundreds of birds on the other side of the kitchen roof. And then the birds on the stairs to the back door to the kitchen. And, as he made his way through hundreds of pairs of bird wings, he wondered what in the ever loving world was happening. Was this a cruel joke? A imagining of his sleep-deprived brain? His boredom at school making him hallucinate?

At this point, Yaku was used to the magical world—he had a magic tree and friend that turned into a  crow for gods sake—but he still tried to come up with rational solutions and explanations.

He opened the door and found hundreds—no, thousands—of birds crowding up the kitchen, on every counter and surface imaginable, watching, with beady eyes, a crow doing...something. Birds flew from Yaku’s feet as he inspected closer. The crow was in the fireplace, putting lentils from the ashes into a tiny bowl. White Crow was there too, and they were cawing out something in whatever bird language they had.

They saw him, and the crow started cawing and flying in panic while White Crow cawed softly at it. Yaku took the bowl of lentils, his thumb  rubbing  over the rim.

White Crow flew into his shoulder, taking a lentil in its beck. It put it in the bowl, and then pointed its beck to the black crow.

“He’s sorting the lentils for me?” White Crow nodded. “Did you put them in there? Or—“—Yaku gestured at the birds around him—“these birds?”

White Crow shook its head. “So my stepsisters put them there.” White Crow nodded.

Yaku bent down to his knees, putting the bowl down in the fireplace. He smiled, or, rather, his mouth turned up at the right corner. “Oh, so you were trying to help me!”

White Crow cawed a yes, and Yaku smiled, for real. “Thank you. And thank you too, little crow.”

The crow, by this time, had calmed down. It hopped onto his head, and White Crow gone onto Yaku’s shoulder. “Anyone want to explain why there are a million birds in the kitchen? I....”

White Crow got the memo—whatever magical being it was, it understood Yaku’s situation—and said something to the little crow, who cawed at the millions of birds in the kitchen. They all flew away, the sounds of their wings beating against the air almost deafening.

When all of the birds had left, Yaku gave his hands to the crows, who flew onto them. “Thank you. Sincerely. Whatever magical beings you are, thank you.”

Then he added something. “Just...please don’t have that many birds in one place. Please. My family...wouldn’t appreciate it, to say the least.”

(That was an understatement.)

The crows both cawed, and Yaku smiled yet again. “Okay, now get out of here. My family wouldn’t like you two here.”

They did, and Yaku closed the door. It had finally sunk in how crazy of an event that was, and how much he didn’t react to it. But then he calmed himself. There were magical beings. It wasn’t weird to talk to magic beings, even when they were in the form of a crow.

He went on with his day. And then Lev came over, as always. He was allowed to come to Yaku’s on weekends at two in the afternoon, since Lev had nothing and Ivy and Anya loved shopping during the afternoon. 

Yaku had to tell Lev about the birds, and how many of them were in the kitchen and on the roof, and how the force felt against his skin when they all left the kitchen at the same time. He didn’t say anything about that random crow, nor White Crow, though. That would stay secret.

Lev listened with a certain sort of happiness, his mouth shut for once as he laid on his stomach. His hands supported his long face, and his eyes watched with a sort of wonder.  Maybe it’s because I don’t talk to him a lot , Yaku thought.  Lev tends to be the one talking, and I am the snarky listener. Maybe it’s good that we have a change of pace.

Of course, Lev’s staring got a little out of hand. “Hey Lev, don’t look at me like that.”

“What do you mean?” Lev’s eyes widened in confusion, and he seemed to be observing himself to see if anything was offensive. When Yaku laughed at the sight, he said, “ What do you mean?”

“ You’re s taring at me as if I have a third eye.”

“Well, you don’t talk very often!” And that was true. “I want to see it again. I never seen so many words come out of your mouth.”

“That’s because you never shut up,” Yaku said, not noticing Lev’s smile faltering for a second. “I would get to talk a bit more if you’d stop for a second.”

To Yaku, that was true, but he didn’t expect the small moment of silence. When he turned, Lev said, smiling, “Then, I’ll let you talk the entire time every other day!”

And so began the familiar ‘Lev-pushes-until-Yaku-gives-in’ routine. “Do I look like I have exciting things happening to me everyday?”

“No.” Blunt as always. “But if you  want to talk, then I’ll let you. It’s fun to watch!”

“Watch? Do you listen to me?” Lev looked panicked, and Yaku laughed. “My goodness, you have the attention span of a child.”

“But I’m not a child...” Lev said that quietly.

“I know.” Lev smiled again when Yaku reached over and patted his head. Yaku’s head pats were the best, in his humble opinion. “So, let’s have more equal conversation?”

Lev took the time to lean into Yaku’s touch a little more, instead of answering. Yaku chuckled. To him, Lev really was a child. “I like talking a whole lot. But Yaku-san wants to talk more. So I’ll do it!”

Yaku laughed again. “You obey me too much.”

Lev wasn’t sure whether he should be happy or a bit (just the tiniest bit,  really ) upset. Because Yaku’s laugh was  the nicest, ringing sound, but Lev didn’t like the idea that he ‘obeyed’ someone. He loved Yaku-san so much it hurt, and the gratefulness for having him as a friend almost became too much at times. He did as Yaku asked because he loved and respected him, and wanted to make him happy. ‘Obeying’ implied that he was forced; if one went along with something out of love, it wasn’t ‘obeying someone’.

Or maybe he was being foolish by thinking that way. Many people told him that he overthought the small things, and was one-hundred percent impervious to the big things.  It was just a comment. That was what people would tell Lev, and so that is what he told himself.

They always underestimated him.

Yaku did his best to keep up conversation, but, in the end, he couldn’t. Lev had to take over, and they flowed into a more comfortable  conversation . This time, however, Yaku commented more and Lev elaborated on those comments, making things more equal.

———————

Alisa was used to hearing gossip. It was natural that, as a member of royalty, one hears all kinds of opinions about them.

She was at a party, and men were surrounding her. Alisa was in a strapless white dress, paired with pearls and a white, see-through dress. This must have been a great combination, as people commented on how pretty her face was the entire afternoon.

(What could she say? She was proud of her fashion sense! It complimented her face well!)

She was talking with a couple of ministers, and they got on the topic of family. “Miss Haiba, how are your parents doing?”

She was about to ask them to call her Alisa, but then realized that she had asked them millions of times before, and they had never obeyed. She gave out a mechanical answer. “They’re doing fine. They’re a little tired from all the trips they were doing, but that is only natural.”

“They weren’t even here for Valentine’s Day. Did they know about your popularity, Miss Haiba?”

“Trust me. They know!” As the ministers laughed, as scripted, Alisa allowed her smile to turn into a frown for a second. Then smiled again. She had a sense of what Lev had talked with her about a few times: the fake lives of royalty. 

(If anyone knew that she would never be married, as she wanted and as society dictated she should, as a woman and future queen, she would get much more pity than she deserved and wanted. She knew this, and she accepted this. If she got hurt every time people joked about her love life, she would be dead inside, and that was no way to live a life. A life was supposed to be happy, and if there was something unhappy you can’t change, you accepted it. Alisa thought that, at least.)

“Say, where is your brother, Miss Haiba?” Mr. Akiyama asked. “I would have seen him if he was here—you know how much he twitters and sings amongst people—but he hasn’t been here.”

“Ah, he’s been going outside during the afternoons! He is an outdoors person at heart.”

“To where?”

“...to hunt.” Alisa was thankful she had been trained to be confident in her speech, or, otherwise, she would have revealed she didn’t where her brother went. Sure, Lev wasn’t dumb enough to get himself into danger—their parents would lock him up, and Kuroo was too protective of Lev, always putting a magic tracker on him—and Alisa trusted him more than anyone else, but where exactly  did he go? All Alisa knew was ‘the Miyagi countryside, near the woods’. “He really loves to hunt actually. He never actually kills the animals, but he does—“

“Isn’t that quite irresponsible? To go out when he could be studying or be here?”

Alisa fought back a sigh. Haibas were protective of Haibas. “Well, he isn’t required here; this is only a little gathering that’s made. And he has went to every morning party and gathering, as well as go study and learn from five to eight since the day he was born. He is allowed to do as he wishes in the afternoon, right?”

“I understand Miss Haiba, but he has certain duties as a prince—“

And they stopped suddenly. Alisa realized she must have had the famous “Haiba glare”, as people put it, and controlled her face. “Yes, and he knows. But he’s sixteen, and sixteen-year-old boys have things to get out of their systems! Like energy! He has a lot of energy!”

(And loneliness, but Alisa wasn’t going to say that out loud.)

“Ah, I suppose...” Mr. Akiyama said, so scared of her that Alisa wanted to apologize. It wasn’t her intention to glare, it really wasn’t.

“As my little brother, I want him to have fun, as a sixteen-year-old should be. I hope you understand that, Mr. Akiyama.”

“Of course.”

And that was that. 

And then, there was a point brought up in the later conversation. “Lev seems happier lately.” This was agreed on by most people, and Alisa had to think about it later, when she was alone.

Before these weekday midnight excursions (and weekend afternoon adventures) started happening late in December, Lev wasn’t as happy as he could have been. It was concerning, as his big sister, to see that Lev was often bored, or tired, or not as happy as he could have been. Sure, he was dramatic with these emotions, but Alisa was the same, and being dramatic didn’t make his emotions less valid.

As soon as January started a month ago, however, she noticed Lev’s increased enthusiasm. Sure, he had eye bags, but they were completely unnoticeable in comparison to the lively essence he emitted. If his spirit from before was a shining beacon of light, his spirit now looked like the sun. He was more energized, more smile-y, more happy.

It was so sweet.

But Lev said that it would ‘be uncomfortable to talk about’. That ‘You would tease me forever if I told you!’ Alisa trusted that he knew what he was doing—Lev may have seemed dumb, but he wasn’t going to let Mom and Dad trap him inside the castle forever. She knew he was not going to go to anything illegal or bad because of that. Her little brother was too sweet, anyway, for that sort of thing. And Lev had had it hammered into his head, stuff like not trusting strangers and ‘if it sounds too good to be true, it is’.

So she let herself imagine. Maybe he had a secret lover? 

Her mind went straight down that path faster than a bullet train. Was Lev’s lover a boy? Girl? Somewhere in between? Neither? Were they serious or a jokester? Pessimistic or optimistic? Did they work hard, or did they slack off? What were their hobbies, goals, dreams? Their history? Did they know Lev was a prince?

(That last question was stupid. Lev wouldn’t let anyone know he was a prince even if it meant the end of the world.)

Oh, if Lev had a lover...! Alisa thought of it and grinned as she worked on paperwork in bed. The romance! The drama! Ah, if a person made Lev so happy, they must be a good person, no matter what a stupid prophecy says! Alisa would approve of any person that made Lyovochka happy, no matter what!

Then she had to calm herself. This was just speculation. And Lev knew his prophecy. He knew every single word, and could recite the entire thing if asked. Romantic love wasn’t a good thing for him, at least before twenty. 

Still though, whatever was making her Lyovochka happy was okay with her.

—————————————————-

The first day of March, Yaku found the time to get Lev a present. 

Lev had given presents a whole lot to Yaku, even though Yaku told him to knock it off. It took a whole lot of talking to talk him into giving only, and  only , food—he did  not want to try to explain to his family how he got a leather backpack, for obvious reasons.

For the past three months, Lev had given gifts, but Yaku had never given him anything. He didn’t notice it until Lev pointed it out.

Lev saw the handmade black shirt—the only thing Yaku could think of that could equal what Lev gave to him, as Lev ranted about how much his white shirts had to get washed a few times. He was excited, put it on right there and then, and grinned. To be honest, Yaku was both happy and amused at how Lev reacted. He was so much like a child. He was so much like a child to Yaku.

“I want more gifts from you, Yaku-san!”

“Just call me Yaku. I’ve told you this.”

“Okay, Yaku.” Lev tried it out, and became disgusted. “That sounds so  weird . Give me your first name.”

“Three months, and first names  already ?”

“You’ve called me Lev this entire time!”

“Only because you’ve never revealed your last name.” Yaku said. That was half of the truth. The other half of the truth was that, now that three months had passed, he couldn’t think of Lev as anything but ‘Lev’. Therefore, he never asked. “Fine. I’ll give my first name if you give your last name.”

Yaku wasn’t sure what he did, but Lev’s entire body became smaller ,  weighted. And then he remembered that Lev was from a rich family. Probably a famous one too. “...Then I’ll just call you Yaku, Yaku-san.”

“...You know what? My name is Morisuke.” Before Lev could call him Morisuke, Yaku said, “But don’t call me Morisuke. We aren’t that close .”

Lev jumped from his sitting position in joy...and got his boot stuck in his cape and fell over. Yaku laughed as Lev got himself up, his head having a bump. Yaku went over to pat his head, and Lev leaned into it like a cat would. But, a huge cat. A lion? No, Lev was as harmless as a kitten.

(Was he so sleep-deprived that he thought of things like that?)

“I can’t call you Morisuke?”

Yaku had to admit that his first instinct was to slap Lev— no one but his mother could call him that—but nothing happened other than his hand tensing against Lev’s hair. He wasn’t callous, to hate someone for simply saying his first name. Especially if they didn’t know why he was known by his last name, and  especially if it was Lev. Yaku was in control of these sort of things. “No. No one calls me by my first name.”

“Even your family?”

“...Yes.”

“That’s really weird. I call my sister Ali—“ Lev stopped himself. Weird, but okay. “I call my sister by her first name all the time.”

“It’s just a private thing.”

“Really?” At this point, Lev’s head was practically in his lap, and Yaku started wondering if this was something ‘friends’ did.

Nope. Time to save that thought process for another day.

“Well...”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t think you’ll like sad things.”

“Why?”

“Well, have you shown that you like bad things?”

“...Good point. But I still wanna hear it!”

“...Fine.” Yaku gave in, as routine asked. And because, maybe, just  maybe , Lev had crawled too deep into his heart to ever get out.  “ My mother died. When I was thirteen. She was the only one that ever called me Morisuke. There.”

When he heard silence, he looked down at his lap. Lev was staring again, and  Jesus Christ why was he so unreadable when he stared? “ Sorry, that’s probably a weird reason to not want to be called by my first name, huh? Sorry, Lev.”

“No. That’s a good reason actually.” Lev’s voice was unexpectedly soft, and he pushed Yaku’s hand to pet his head more. Yaku’s surprise must have shown, because he then said, “What?”

“I just...didn’t expect that.”

“Yaku-san, I’m a human being.”

“I know. But you’re kind of like a child a lot of the time, so...”

Lev stayed silent. “What? It’s the truth.”

“Yaku-san, can I just talk?”

“Sure. But thanks for listening.”

“Of course...Mori-san.”

Mori-san. Huh. That wasn’t such a bad nickname.

—————-

One weekend in late March, Yaku decided to go out with Lev for a change of pace.

They ended up meeting Kuroo, who invited Lev to their volleyball game. Lev commented that he had never seen sports in action before, and Yaku decided to join in as libero. He wanted to see how Lev would react to him being in a sports team.

To say the least, Yaku expected a good reaction, but not  that much of a good reaction.

Lev almost died inside when Yaku came out in his uniform. He saw the way Yaku’s body moved, and how fast and accurate it was with every single receive. Even as someone on the sidelines, he could tell how good Yaku had gotten. Every receive was done with a great precision, with a greatness that only seasoned players had. It became humbling to see that this... powerful side was also a part of his friend.

(Friend? Lev wasn’t sure if Yaku was just a friend.  Especially after seeing him like this. He would have to ask later.)

After a huge gushing session over Yaku, where Yaku threatened to kick him to Narnia if he didn’t stop complimenting him, he was asked if he wanted to join in. Kuroo gave a nod of approval—after all, these were all poor people who have never seen the royal family—and Lev joined in. He wasn’t sure how to do anything, but he would try and that was all that mattered!

Yaku watched from the sidelines this time, taking out some homework to do while he rested. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Lev was hardcore struggling, and laughed a little to himself.  Ah, people would never stop underestimating how hard volleyball can be.  This was a common thing, and he shouldn’t have been surprised, but he still was amused.

The surprising thing, however, was that Lev started understanding at an incredible pace. Within a forty-minute time period, he went from someone who had no idea what was happening to someone who could play with lower-level amateurs if he played seriously. Keyword:  seriously .

These games were casual games done for fun, so there weren’t high stakes or real determination to win. Yaku thinks that was why Lev underestimated the game, at first. But Lev got a certain look of determination later, at the thirty-minute mark. Maybe from losing, or from being tired. Yaku wouldn’t know. Despite how much he learnt from three months and how open Lev could be, he could never understand what was going on in that head. 

That look of determination, concentration...Yaku liked it a lot. Furrowed brows, narrow eyes, and and certain glare and frown that made Yaku hope Lev would never point it to him. It was handsome. Almost s...

Yaku had to slap himself. What was he thinking? It was just a facial expression!  What are you doing, Yaku Morisuke?  What was he doing, thinking of Lev like—

“Mori-san!” Lev ran over to him, and  oh goodness that grin paired with that one drop of sweat that ran down his collarbone was  sinful — “Did I do good? I’ve done good right?”

Yaku focused. He wasn’t going to be a teenage boy on hormones, no matter how much his view of Lev had changed just from watching him. “You did better than some beginners.”

“Beginners?!”

“Did you expect to be a expert as soon as you tried?”

“No!” Lev said. “But I...wanted to be.”

Lev had an expectant face, ready to be praised, and Yaku sighed, more out of habit than annoyance. He pointed to the ground, and Lev bowed down. Yaku patted Lev’s head, messing up his hair a little—it was crazy how neat Lev’s hair was, even for a rich guy. “You did well. Good job, Lev.”

Once he was done, Lev smiled, and hugged him. “Lev, stop. You’re going to get sweat on me and AAAHH—“

Lev lifted Yaku up in the air, making their height difference painfully obvious. Yaku struggled—holy shit, a sixteen-year-old should  not be this strong—and finally got breathing room on his upper body. Lev was smiling, his eyes closed, and Yaku knew his face was likely a million degrees as of then.  Holy  shit this was in front of close friends—

Yaku dropkicked Lev in the shin, and Lev dropped him. He let out a ‘ow’ and Yaku had to lecture about asking first before hugging someone.

Everyone ignored them after Yaku started lecturing. It was something everyone was used to. It was a law of the universe that Yaku lectured everyone and anyone, just as much as it’s a fact the sun rises.

Lev then asked to rest a little, and Yaku allowed him. Kuroo ran up to him.

“So, I saw how you were eye-fucking Lev.”

“I wasn’t—“ Yaku had to sigh in exasperation. Why did Kuroo have to be like this? “I wasn’t doing  that .”

“To be fair, the guy was doing the same to you.”

“No way. He doesn’t think that way at all.” Yaku took the time to adjust a part of his volleyball uniform. “He just thinks I’m... cute , that’s all.”

“Yeah,  and I’m dating the king of Miyagi.”

“Oh, so you’re dating the king of Miyagi? What is it like to piss off the queen everyday?” Yaku asked sarcastically.

“Don’t do your stupid ‘go-onto-another-topic-so-we-don’t-have-to-talk-about-this-one’ tactic. Lev has a thing for you, and it’s about time you say you think the same.”

“It’s been  three months , Kuroo.”

“So? I’ve seen couples together who had seen each other for a day and decide to get married on the spot Romeo-and-Juliet style. Dating isn’t marriage, you know, Yakkun? You can start at any time.” And then Kuroo grinned, and Yaku knew that he was about to say something infuriatingly right. “And what’s this I hear? No rejection that you have a thing for him?”

“ Just shut up.”

“Did I hit a mark?” When Yaku kept quiet, Kuroo stopped the joking tone. “Hey, did I do something wrong?”

He really didn’t. “Why are you even so intent on getting us together?”

“Well, that’s what friends do. Embarrass each other.” That easy smile Kuroo always had came back onto his face, and Yaku gave a (mental) sigh of relief. “And hey. It’s not impossible to date him.”

“Well, he’s rich and I’m not.”

Kuroo had an incredibly incredulous face, and Yaku realized what he said wrong. “You’re a part of the Yaku family, and your father is a rich as fuck merchant, and you’re saying  you’re poor ?”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean...” Yaku trailed off, recollecting his thoughts. “Even with my status, my family is still middle class at best.” 

Yaku wasn’t going to say he was a poor citizen in his own home. Nor that he was abused. He knew that no one would want someone like that, but Kuroo needed to know  nothing . “From the little info Lev has given me, his family is as rich as the royal family itself. That class difference...it would never work out.”

Kuroo gave a certain, meaningful look. Something sad. It was a face that admitted that Yaku was right. It passed as soon as it came, however. “Okay. Okay. That’s right. But dating and stuff doesn’t have to last forever, or shit like that. Things can just be on the down low, you know? Not serious. Or serious. But on the down low.”

Yaku sighed, tired. God Kuroo loved talking about uncomfortable topics. But it wasn’t something Yaku could hate about him; most of the time, Kuroo knew when to snap Yaku out of things.

Kuroo went over to him. Patted his shoulder for a sec. “Just think about it, okay? I love the both of you—social classes can go jump off a cliff. Do what’s cool for you.”

Then, with a second of lingering, he left, running over to change clothes. Which Yaku should probably do as well—he was still in his uniform—but he stood there, near the benches. Like an idiot. And maybe he would have to admit that Kuroo was a good talker, cause he was actually considering that, maybe—just maybe—a relationship would be possible.

On the down low. Non serious. Short.

(Yaku would never admit out loud that he wished for his time with Lev to be longer, for something more serious and  deep and so cheesy it belonged in a romance novel. And maybe it would be embarrassing, but an open relationship would be quite sweet.)

(It was impossible, though. No rich person would ever want someone like him. An abused person? A merchant’s son who’s a servant in his own home? Who would want someone like that? Who would inconvenience themselves with someone like  him ?)

(And Lev was sweeter than most—always wanting the best for the poor, or  any person, for that matter—but a person like Yaku was hard to handle. There’s got to be a time when Lev got tired, right? There had to be.)

———-———

Dear reader, the actions and thoughts of the characters may have confused or even angered you. Especially of Lev and Kuroo.

It should be an understood thing, however, that Kuroo was a person defined by his friendships. As much as he joked around, he truly loved his friends. 

It is a flaw, then, how he tended to put his friends above all else. Even what was right. Even above what is common sense.

It wasn’t as if he could tell Yaku that Lev was the prince. It wasn’t as if he could predict that the two would fall for each other, and—once he found that out—he thought that telling Yaku would sever their relationship. After all, knowing that someone’s a prince is greatly appreciated information. And Kuroo did not want a rehash of Yaku leaving the Nekoma group. Not. At. All.

And so he didn’t tell Yaku.

But was he stupid for rooting for Yaku and Lev to get together? Perhaps. Again, one has to realize that he prioritized his friends’ happiness above all else. He certainly wasn’t going to take away something that made both Lev and Yaku happier than they’ve ever been, and authority? It was secondary to his friends one-hundred percent.

Yes he knew about Lev’s curse. And he knew about the so called ‘chaos’ Lev would bring. But at the same time, he had figured something out.

Lev would bring chaos. But no spectra fairies were brought to change anything. Spectras were used for any terrible fate, and so if they weren’t in Lev’s presence...

Then Lev’s fate wasn’t bad, was it?

And even if it was bad, he was  sixteen . Nowhere near  twenty-one . Teenagers are folly. And as sad as it was, Lev and Yaku were probably going to break up in a year or so.

So to him, there was nothing to worry about.

As for Lev, he was the most fatalistic person to ever exist. There was no avoiding the prophecy, and so why worry unnecessarily about it? It will happen. And so he didn’t think much of his love for Yaku because he trusted him, and loved him, and to be honest he was only sixteen—not twenty—and so why worry? And Yaku wasn’t poor to him. Maybe in comparison, but Yaku was a part of a rich merchant family, and couldn’t possibly be the “person in penury” the prophecy was talking about.

...

Needless to say, reader, there can be only misunderstandings from here.


	14. Explanation for why I didn’t update for 3 FLIPPING MONTHS WTF AUTHOR CHAN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly as the title says.

To preface this: this will not be a discontinued story. It will be continued.

Now that we got that out of the way, it’s time to explain myself.

To be completely honest, I’ve not been writing the next chapter. Like, at all. Like seriously, I have no excuse for not writing at all. You guys can roast me cause I’ve literally been avoiding this story for the past three months. I know. I’m a coward. All that I can say is that school sucks the life out of me—a straight A student—I am the laziest and most unmotivated person on the earth...

And that the next chapter is....Very emotionally heavy, and therefore hard to write. And also Very hard to write sensitively, and without offending or hurting anyone. Look man, abuse is very hard to write sensitively. I’m way too young to write this stuff by most people’s standards, but I’m going to try anyway! 🤷🏻‍♀️

Explanation will be under this cut. For readers who hate spoilers, all you need to know is that there is a reason why Cycle of Abuse is tagged, Yaku doesn’t have the best mental health, and Mental Health>love.

...I really hope that wasn’t too spoilery. But that’s the most basic info you need to know, people who hate spoilers, to understand me. So now, for the people who don’t mind, here’s the full cut explanation. For those who don’t want spoilers, go to the SPOILERS END HERE.

————————————————————-

So basically next chapter, YakuLev gets canon. Everything’s cool, right? Nope. At the beginning, things are cool, but issues start popping up as Yaku’s abuse starts getting really hard to deal with, and Yaku’s patience starts running out. Yaku doesn’t take Lev seriously as a person (remember all those times Yaku called Lev a child? Yeah. That was what I was trying to do—I don’t think I pulled it off well though rip). Yaku also has a habit of taking more than giving (see the parallels between him and his family? Yeah.).

At first, Lev is like ‘this is cool’ but then really wants to prove himself to Yaku as a ‘mature person’ so he keeps trying to make things work. More friction in relationship because of opposite personalities=no one listens to each other=zero communication (VERY important, also flaw in Lev as well as Yaku).After Kuroo is like ‘hey man, maybe this ain’t a you thing, it’s a him thing, and also no offense but you really do not know how relationships work, being young and sheltered af, and should _really_ take time away from him to learn on your own terms’, Lev is like ‘well shit.’ Then, he struggles to try to break it off. Not because he’s scared—he’s brave and def not a coward—but because he really loves Yaku.

Eventually Lev has idea. ‘Maybe love is doing what’s best for both you and other person, even if it makes both of you sad.” And so he goes and tells Yaku ‘we should break up, cause you rlly need help and I am way too young and naive to be in a relationship rn’. Yaku has freakout. Argument. Eventually Yaku has Bad Thought and thinks “wtf @ me, why am I so angry over Lev, he’s right, omg I’m like my family, holy shit, fuck me”. 

so then they calm the fuck down (though Yaku has mental breakdown for a little bit cause wow he doesn’t want to be a terrible person, and he failed his mom, and that’s some heavy shit). They’re like ‘k, let’s not see each other for an entire year. Let’s learn about ourselves, heal from traumas, mature as people cause WOW we are kinda young and messed up, and then we’ll see, after all that, if we’re better people. Better people that can love each other.’

Both are reluctant, but Yaku by this point realizes ‘wow my abuse has severely fucked me up, and ignoring it is not an option anymore, it hurt someone l loved, that’s not good at all.’ So he’s like, ‘damn, gotta get myself some therapy, and a support to lean on when I need to, and stop hiding shit from ppl.’ He’s a bit too self blaming though, but Lev comforts him, saying Yaku’s got to really stop that too.

They break it off. And in the next 2 chapters after that, one for Lev, one for Yaku, they develop over the course of 1.5 years. Yaku finally gets some fucking help, and struggle with his pride a lot. A lot of ups and downs for him. He finally tells his friends his situation. Suga helps him along the process, getting him rescources and making sure Yaku actually goes to therapy (secret, thankfully, Hinata’s dad is #1). He actually makes an extreme effort to improve in his behaviors and personality, making sure to notice if he’s accidentally repeating cycle of abuse. And for once, it’s for himself. He also allows himself to be happy for once, with other ppl that are not Lev. Learns independence. Also FINALLY gets the abuse issue to court (something align those lines).

Lev starts off missing Yaku a lot—and he still does over the course of 1.5 years, but less and less—but gets to work. He observes and participates in relationships of all kinds, learning lessons about healthy and unhealthy relationships along the way. Also, he figures out who the fuck he is as a person (Lev is a ‘relational’ person; he relies on who he is with others a lot, so he never figured out who he is, and so ensues the character dev) and also figures out wtf communication is, and how important it is to any relationship. Also matures as a person—remember, he’s 16-17–and has a way better knowledge of ‘how to comfort ppl without sacrificing yourself.’ He also learns to take no bull from the ppl he loves—he can be a little too lenient with ppl he likes—and to be independent from others (again, he’s a ‘relational’ person).

They will, eventually, very slowly, get back together again.

As you can probably see, this is so hard to write. I want to be sensitive to those who have/are in relationships that are toxic in some way or another. Look, this may be a Nanowrimo/writing out of my ass fic, but I’m Not heartless to ignore that abuse and toxic relationships are sensitive topics that should be treated with respect. Seriously.

I want to frame things in a ‘people can get better’ light. Yaku does get better as a human being, and much more mentally sound. Lev also becomes a better, take no shit person as well. But I don’t want to write it in a way where victims of toxic relationships are hurt. Not at all.

SPOILERS END HERE

So, long story short: woman can’t write because she’s too scared she’s going to mess up writing sensitive topics such as abuse and toxic relationships. Also I WILL, on my will and honor, NOT abandon this. It’s just that, for the time being, since I am trying to be realistic and thoughtful, the next chapter will likely not come for a very, very long time. Sincerest apologies to those who thought this was a new chapter, and sorry to all of those who I led on.

...

Anyway, to apologize, here is what I done so far for the next chapter. It’s not much, but better than nothing.

**THE (very little) WRITING I HAVE, AS OF RIGHT NOW, FOR CHAPTER 13**

Romance was a topic that Lev both hated and loved.

He read about it from the books Alisa had, and heard about it from his parents. It was a beautiful thing, like a flower blooming, or the sun shining its rays on a person’s face. Emotion, he heard. Love— romantic love—gave a person so much emotion,so much overflowing emotion, that it felt like one’s heart was bleeding.

It was warmth by a fireplace during winter. It was the pure laughter coming from a child. It was stupidity, and wisdom, and closeness. It was a thing  most people were allowed to experience.

Keyword:  most .

Some days, when he laid down in bed, he thought about romance. Some people—aromantics—didn’t feel anything romantic at all, and some people plain didn’t want it. The latter abstained—they  chose to not have romantic relationships. And the former had no choice in the matter; they simply did not feel anything romantic for anyone, and that was who they were.

Sometimes, he would think bad thoughts. If I was aromantic, I would be better off. My parents would never bother me.  Or he would think  If I weren’t a selfish dummy, I would be able to abstain from romance forever.  Lev didn’t want to think these things—aromanticism didn’t exist to solve his problems, and he realized that aro people had way more problems than he would ever have. And he wasn’t aro anyway—the long list of crushes he had proved that—so he just had to deal with his situation.

Lev had heard so much about romance. He had experienced it too. But it was always one-sided, it was always overshadowed by the fact that  he wasn’t allowed to love people. His parents would never let him get too close to the poor, because they were  evil , because ‘ if one came near you, it would mean the ruin of the kingdom ’. And there was always that implication that it was the  poor people’s  fault for  existing to  seduc e Lev, whatever that meant. And he hated it. Cause it wasn’t their fault at all. 

But the point is this: Lev was never allowed to love another person. Sure he had the platonic love from his family, and maybe he should have been okay with just that. At least, that was what he thought. But he had a longing. A longing—natural, really—to be able to love another person, to give them the world, to feel safe and comfortable around a person. To be able to talk to a person and find their flaws, their mistakes and troubles, and accept them for that. And to be himself— not his fake, royal self—around a person who he liked, who liked him back.

He didn’t even want romantic love, necessarily! All he wanted was  one friend that his parents couldn’t take away from him!

(Now, it should be noted, dear reader, that he wasn’t in love with the  concept of being in love. It was just that he wanted to give the love and understanding in his heart to a person who returned his feelings. Love is not a one way street, and he figured that out through experience.)

In general, Lev did love Yaku a whole lot. He liked the way that Yaku mothered him and cared for him, and liked the way that Yaku talked and joked.He liked the seriousness, the little nice things he would do, and the way he would totally enjoy when Lev was affectionate (though he complained). And Lev loved the way he was caring, but still critical. And there was also the way that he still accepted Lev as he was, and encouraged Lev to be better, and the way he gave thanks whenever Lev gave good advice for once—

And  wow the list of why he loved Yaku was growing more and more by the second.

Sure, Yaku kicked him in the shins a lot, admittedly. But at the same time, Lev found that he didn’t mind it, or at least didn’t care about it. Cause at the same time he was kicking, Yaku would be mothering him with his angry worrying. He would be whispering some concerns. Or at least he’ll teach an important lesson about respecting people’s space and things like that.

Admittedly his love for Yaku had gotten out of hand. It was meant to be a friendship! Really! It was supposed to be a great friendship and nothing more! 

But love had to come and bite him in the ass, didn’t it? Love comes out of no where, or at least that’s what he experienced. 

Cause now, he can’t deny that he likes Yaku more than a normal friend should. He can’t deny that sometimes, he wonders what kissing Yaku would be like—Yaku had some chapped lips, but maybe they would be softer than expected? And he can’t deny that an essential—essential!— part of a good day, for him, was making Yaku smile and laugh. And, thinking about it, even if Yaku loves someone else, he would still be supportive despite his feelings.

Yeah, he was in love.

And maybe it  should have been terrifying. He had a prophecy that literally said that “ chaos would spread across the land”  if he married someone. Maybe he should have worried about it.

But the prophecy was inevitable. There was no changing it, and, since no spectras were assigned to help him, Lev assumed that everything will be fine in the end. He couldn’t avoid it, so he will have to face it sooner or later. Why fight the prophecy? He had time, and there was no fighting it. Lev read about self-profiling prophecies. No matter what he did, the chaos would happen. He would simply have to make himself wiser, til then.

And he was sixteen.  Sixteen . He was nowhere close to twenty-one. As much as he didn’t want to think about it, Yaku would have probably tired of him by the time Lev was eighteen. The chances of marriage with Yaku, as appealing as they were, were slimmer than thin ice.

Yes, he knew he sounded infatuated. And very, very irresponsible. But who wouldn’t turn into a schoolboy once they fell for someone? He was just more obvious, being dramatic.

Yes, he knew that the chances of this lasting were so,  so slim.

But god damn it, who in the world said that short-lived love wasn’t worth it? It is as worth it as any seventy-year-old marriage, because love is love and such strong emotion for any person isn’t something that’s “wasted”. At least, that’s what Lev concluded after a few sleepless nights, in the huge bedroom he had. With that sort of logic—that love is ‘wasted’ once a breakup happens—that means that once one’s mom is dead, all the love for her had been for nothing.

After concluding this, in some time in April, Lev decided on a course of action.

————————————————————

“Lyovochka, why do you have roses?”

Lev skidded to a halt, his boots making a squeaking noise, before turning to meet his sister. It was a wonder how he didn’t fall right down the staircase, really. 

“I just wanted to bring them!” Lev had  that smile, the one where he was somehow sheepish, lying, and truthful at the same time. Alisa had seen this when he was a kid, picking cookies out of the jar in the kitchen, or embarrassed beyond human comprehension.

“Lyovochka, those are  red roses, yes?” Alisa then grinned. “Oh my god are they for a  partner ?”

Even in the darkness of the night, Alisa could see her brother blush. “Oh my goodness, what do they look like? Are they good to you? Personality? Will I be able to shop with them?”

“Alisa!” Lev started laughing, both out of nervousness and because he genuinely wanted to laugh. “I haven’t even confessed yet!”

“Well, tell me how it goes!”

“I will, Alisa!” Lev gave a quick hug. “Thanks, Alisa.”

Thanks for allowing me to love,  was the hidden message. Alisa hugged him back. “No problem, Lev. Get home safe, alright?”

“I will!” With a quick kiss to the cheek and another hug, Lev smiled and went on his horse, his red cloak flowing into the night.

Alisa, outside on the castle’s front steps, smiled after him. Her long white sleeves almost dragged along the floor as she went back in.

It was true that chaos would come if Lev married. It was unavoidable though, and it wasn’t as if sixteen-year-old Lev would marry this friend of his. Even if he did, it was—again—unavoidable. 

It was true their parents would not approve of this. They certainly would have Alisa’s head for—what?—actually wanting  her brother to have a social life? Yes, Alisa shared Lev’s viewpoint: there was no changing the prophecy, and so they would simply have to deal with it. And for goodness sake, no one should have to be lonely the entirety of their teenage years, no matter how much one wants to protect them.

How can it even count as protection, when it hurts the person you’re protecting?

Alisa walked into the castle, warm light engulfing her. Things would work out in the end. If there were no spectra fairies, it wasn’t that bad of a fate.

——————————————————————

Yaku opened the back door. Slid it back as slow as possible. It locked with a  click!  and he took a look up at the night sky.

The star twinkled, as if they were laughing. Maybe at humans. Or maybe at him, a lovesick fool with little worth to them, in the grand scheme of things.

Am I losing my mind?  Why was he thinking these sorts of things? He really should sleep more. 

The stars twinkled and then Lev appeared, his bright red cloak maroon in the darkness. His grin was white, his eyes a jewel green. And the stray thought came to Yaku’s brain: the stars may twinkle, but Lev’s eyes  shine .

(Oh, he was such a lovesick fool.  He was  such a lovesick fool. )

“Yaku-san, Yaku-san!” Even after making a nickname, Lev still went back to his old habit from time to time. “Come here! Hug me!”

“Hey. It’s really embarrassing to say that so loudly, you know that?” Nonetheless, Yaku went down the little staircase and hugged Lev. Or, rather, his torso. Curse his shortness. 

Lev hugged back, bouncing up and down on his tiptoes—does he  really need to get any taller?—and his entire body followed. Yaku could feel soothing hands bounce up and down, leaving traces of warmth.

And then it was gone.

Lev jumped out of his arms, leaving a certain coldness. His face was excited, eyes squeezing together. “Hey, Yaku-san! Wait a sec! I have something to show you!”

Well that was sudden. “What is it?”

“Just wait! I’ll get it!” Yaku tilted his head to the side as Lev then ran over to his horse, red cloak flowing in the wind. Yaku could see the little, magical tracker Kuroo clipped on to the cloak, holding firm.  I hope Kuroo won’t find out about the this.  If only because Kuroo would tease him to death if he found out about Lev’s gifts.

Lev ran over and the first thing Yaku noticed was red. Then flowers. Then—

“Roses?”

Lev nodded, quick and sure. “You like them?”

Yaku took the bouquet—small and modest, like he would want—and played with the petals. 

What was this supposed to be for?

Lev was itching to hear an answer, and was looking at him rather expectantly, but Yaku was just really confused on why in the world Lev would give this to him. Was it a joke? Probably not. A token of friendship? But then the roses would be yellow. 

Red though...

“So...do you like them?” Lev said, trying his best to not look worried. “Are they bad?”

“No. They’re very nice.” And he smelt them, and  yep these were definitely fresh. 

He couldn’t hope too much, but...

“What is this for anyway?” Yaku said, half joking, half serious. “You must really like me a lot.”

“Yep.”

“And care a lot.”

“Yep.”

“That’s really sweet.” Yaku looked up and Jesus Christ—“Lev, are you alright?”

Lev straightened up as soon as possible, though his limbs still trembled with energy. “I’m fine!”

“...Sure, and I’m the Prince of Miyagi.” Lev still trembled though, so Yaku took his voice down a few levels. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Well, uh...” 

“Yes?” And Yaku couldn’t help but be a little impatient.

“Well, uh...”—and here, Lev looked rather cute biting his lip, and being uncharacteristically nervous—“I like you a lot!”

“That’s obvious. Why are you so nervous about it?”

Lev stared at him with the most incredulous face imaginable, mouth in an ‘o’ shape. He blinked, and then he realized.

“No! I mean...I like you way more than you think!” And Lev decided to hold onto Yaku’s arms, grazing the skin. He quickly made his hands travel down Yaku’s arms, grasping at his hands instead. “I love you! And I mean that!”

“Wait.” And Yaku had to blink, because if Lev was saying what Yaku thought he was saying...”Are you saying that...”

“Saying what?” And Lev had such a innocent look for someone who was handling Yaku’s weak, yet strong heart without even knowing it.

“That you love me...”—And Yaku had to take in a huge gulp, cause his nerves and reasonable brain weren’t working together well right now—“Do you love me romantically?”

“Yes.”

And if his heart was weak before—with all of the feelings and love that built up—it certainly became weaker with the shock that Lev had given him.

Lev was in love with him.

Lev was in love with him.

“Yaku-san?” When Yaku didn’t answer, Lev began to sweat. “Mori-san? Do you—“

He was cut off by a hug that sent him tumbling to the ground, grass and cold, hard dirt hitting his back and dirtying up his clothes. The hug was so tight that Lev wondered—for a split second—where all that strength came from, and then—

Yaku started holding Lev’s face in his hands. He had a firm grip, Lev noticed. It was the kind of firm grip that meant business. “Say it.”

“What?”

“Say you’re in love with me again.” And Yaku really was trying to calm himself down, but he needed to hear it again. He needed to hear it again.

“I love you.” And Lev said it, and Yaku hugged him again, and it was as if a piece of the world had fit into place.

—————

(Later, when Yaku had apologized for the hug, and both of their nerves had calmed down, they kissed. A peck, really.)

(It was nice. And maybe the kiss wasn’t groundbreaking, or divine, or any word a romance novel would use, and maybe it had mistakes. The both of them never kissed a person, and it was obvious with the way their teeth and noses both bumped against each other.)

(But, cheesy as it was, it was a good kiss, with lots of laughter and love.)

—-———-

Lev was way too happy tonight.

That would have been a good thing, but Kuroo was looking at Lev from the corner of his eye and he could  tell . He could  tell how jumpy and impatient Lev was, from the way he bounced his leg, to the way he was practically eating the feather off the quill he held. 

As the teacher droned on and on and on and on— wow  Kuroo had to remind himself how much he was getting paid for this—he got the pile of books his boss wanted. The teacher took the pile without a single thanks, and then proceeded to drone on some more.

Lev was paying attention today. Way more than usual. Which was a miracle and a blessing, but it didn’t seem to be because he actually  wanted to pay attention. 

It was more like Lev answered the questions as fast and as accurately as possible to get the lesson done faster.

The fuck’s gone into him?  Kuroo thought.  The fuck’s gone into  me ?  I’m being upset over him paying attention for once.

But it was just worry. Because Lev was innocent, and needed to learn to be mature. Because, no matter what Lev thought, while Lev  was a human being who needed to be taken seriously, he was  sixteen . And, being sheltered all his life, he needed to learn way more than numbers and events. Emotions, and healthy habits, and attitudes, and relationships,and how to be a mature, good adult...

Those aren’t things one would learn in school. And especially a sheltered prince.

And Kuroo, thinking about this as the teacher went on about some history lesson or another, thought,  Am I a dad now?

Seriously, to worry so much about someone else, and someone he’s not really supposed to be close with...Kuroo wondered how in the world he began to care about the prince. To a point where he’s practically a second parent.

Well... he thought, seeing Lev’s small grin to himself when he thought no one was looking.  There are worse people to parent.

—————

“Hey.” Kuroo slapped Lev on the shoulder, 


	15. Chapter 13: AKA Author chan didn’t die from Corona, she swears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally get some Yakulev fluff (but with a dark undertone uh oh), the main couple keeps hiding shit from each other, and Kuroo gets brushed off despite having a point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I did not die from Corona. Sincerely, I am alive and well. 
> 
> Honestly I don’t really have an excuse for not updating for this long. I did the sketchbook slam challenge in June, and had my first HS summer project to do in July, so fuck me and my lazy ass I guess.
> 
> Anyway, pls read and comment pls, I literally would love you if you comment
> 
> I’ll edit this later, to have italics and stuff

Romance was a topic that Lev both hated and loved.

He read about it from the books Alisa had, and heard about it from his parents. It was a beautiful thing, like a flower blooming, or the sun shining its rays on a person’s face. Emotion, he heard. Love— romantic love—gave a person so much emotion,so much overflowing emotion, that it felt like one’s heart was bleeding.

It was warmth by a fireplace during winter. It was the pure laughter coming from a child. It was stupidity, and wisdom, and closeness. It was a thing  most people were allowed to experience.

Keyword:  most .

Some days, when he laid down in bed, he thought about romance. Some people—aromantics—didn’t feel anything romantic at all, and some people plain didn’t want it. The latter abstained—they  chose to not have romantic relationships. And the former had no choice in the matter; they simply did not feel anything romantic for anyone, and that was who they were.

Sometimes, he would think bad thoughts. If I was aromantic, I would be better off. My parents would never bother me.  Or he would think  If I weren’t a selfish dummy, I would be able to abstain from romance forever.  Lev didn’t want to think these things—aromanticism didn’t exist to solve his problems, and he realized that aro people had way more problems than he would ever have. And he wasn’t aro anyway—the long list of crushes he had proved that—so he just had to deal with his situation.

Lev had heard so much about romance. He had experienced it too. But it was always one-sided, it was always overshadowed by the fact that  he wasn’t allowed to love people. His parents would never let him get too close to the poor, because they were  evil , because ‘ if one came near you, it would mean the ruin of the kingdom ’. And there was always that implication that it was the  poor people’s  fault for  existing to  seduc e Lev, whatever that meant. And he hated it. Cause it wasn’t their fault at all. 

But the point is this: Lev was never allowed to love another person. Sure he had the platonic love from his family, and maybe he should have been okay with just that. At least, that was what he thought. But he had a longing. A longing—natural, really—to be able to love another person, to give them the world, to feel safe and comfortable around a person. To be able to talk to a person and find their flaws, their mistakes and troubles, and accept them for that. And to be himself— not his fake, royal self—around a person who he liked, who liked him back.

He didn’t even want romantic love, necessarily! All he wanted was  one friend that his parents couldn’t take away from him!

(Now, it should be noted, dear reader, that he wasn’t in love with the  concept of being in love. It was just that he wanted to give the love and understanding in his heart to a person who returned his feelings. Love is not a one way street, and he figured that out through experience.)

In general, Lev did love Yaku a whole lot. He liked the way that Yaku mothered him and cared for him, and liked the way that Yaku talked and joked.He liked the seriousness, the little nice things he would do, and the way he would totally enjoy when Lev was affectionate (though he complained). And Lev loved the way he was caring, but still critical. And there was also the way that he still accepted Lev as he was, and encouraged Lev to be better, and the way he gave thanks whenever Lev gave good advice for once—

And  wow the list of why he loved Yaku was growing more and more by the second.

Sure, Yaku kicked him in the shins a lot, admittedly. But at the same time, Lev found that he didn’t mind it, or at least didn’t care about it. Cause at the same time he was kicking, Yaku would be mothering him with his angry worrying. He would be whispering some concerns. Or at least he’ll teach an important lesson about respecting people’s space and things like that.

Admittedly his love for Yaku had gotten out of hand. It was meant to be a friendship! Really! It was supposed to be a great friendship and nothing more! 

But love had to come and bite him in the ass, didn’t it? Love comes out of no where, or at least that’s what he experienced. 

Cause now, he can’t deny that he likes Yaku more than a normal friend should. He can’t deny that sometimes, he wonders what kissing Yaku would be like—Yaku had some chapped lips, but maybe they would be softer than expected? And he can’t deny that an essential—essential!— part of a good day, for him, was making Yaku smile and laugh. And, thinking about it, even if Yaku loves someone else, he would still be supportive despite his feelings.

Yeah, he was in love.

And maybe it  should have been terrifying. He had a prophecy that literally said that “ chaos would spread across the land”  if he married someone. Maybe he should have worried about it.

But the prophecy was inevitable. There was no changing it, and, since no spectras were assigned to help him, Lev assumed that everything will be fine in the end. He couldn’t avoid it, so he will have to face it sooner or later. Why fight the prophecy? He had time, and there was no fighting it. Lev read about self-profiling prophecies. No matter what he did, the chaos would happen. He would simply have to make himself wiser, til then.

And he was sixteen.  Sixteen . He was nowhere close to twenty-one. As much as he didn’t want to think about it, Yaku would have probably tired of him by the time Lev was eighteen. The chances of marriage with Yaku, as appealing as they were, were slimmer than thin ice.

Yes, he knew he sounded infatuated. And very, very irresponsible. But who wouldn’t turn into a schoolboy once they fell for someone? He was just more obvious, being dramatic.

Yes, he knew that the chances of this lasting were so,  so slim.

But god damn it, who in the world said that short-lived love wasn’t worth it? It is as worth it as any seventy-year-old marriage, because love is love and such strong emotion for any person isn’t something that’s “wasted”. At least, that’s what Lev concluded after a few sleepless nights, in the huge bedroom he had. With that sort of logic—that love is ‘wasted’ once a breakup happens—that means that once one’s mom is dead, all the love for her had been for nothing.

After concluding this, in some time in April, Lev decided on a course of action.

————————————————————

“Lyovochka, why do you have roses?”

Lev skidded to a halt, his boots making a squeaking noise, before turning to meet his sister. It was a wonder how he didn’t fall right down the staircase, really. 

“I just wanted to bring them!” Lev had  that smile, the one where he was somehow sheepish, lying, and truthful at the same time. Alisa had seen this when he was a kid, picking cookies out of the jar in the kitchen, or embarrassed beyond human comprehension.

“Lyovochka, those are  red roses, yes?” Alisa then grinned. “Oh my god are they for a  partner ?”

Even in the darkness of the night, Alisa could see her brother blush. “Oh my goodness, what do they look like? Are they good to you? Personality? Will I be able to shop with them?”

“Alisa!” Lev started laughing, both out of nervousness and because he genuinely wanted to laugh. “I haven’t even confessed yet!”

“Well, tell me how it goes!”

“I will, Alisa!” Lev gave a quick hug. “Thanks, Alisa.”

Thanks for allowing me to love,  was the hidden message. Alisa hugged him back. “No problem, Lev. Get home safe, alright?”

“I will!” With a quick kiss to the cheek and another hug, Lev smiled and went on his horse, his red cloak flowing into the night.

Alisa, outside on the castle’s front steps, smiled after him. Her long white sleeves almost dragged along the floor as she went back in.

It was true that chaos would come if Lev married. It was unavoidable though, and it wasn’t as if sixteen-year-old Lev would marry this friend of his. Even if he did, it was—again—unavoidable. 

It was true their parents would not approve of this. They certainly would have Alisa’s head for—what?—actually wanting  her brother to have a social life? Yes, Alisa shared Lev’s viewpoint: there was no changing the prophecy, and so they would simply have to deal with it. And for goodness sake, no one should have to be lonely the entirety of their teenage years, no matter how much one wants to protect them.

How can it even count as protection, when it hurts the person you’re protecting?

Alisa walked into the castle, warm light engulfing her. Things would work out in the end. If there were no spectra fairies, it wasn’t that bad of a fate.

——————————————————————

Yaku opened the back door. Slid it back as slow as possible. It locked with a  click!  and he took a look up at the night sky.

The star twinkled, as if they were laughing. Maybe at humans. Or maybe at him, a lovesick fool with little worth to them, in the grand scheme of things.

Am I losing my mind?  Why was he thinking these sorts of things? He really should sleep more. 

The stars twinkled and then Lev appeared, his bright red cloak maroon in the darkness. His grin was white, his eyes a jewel green. And the stray thought came to Yaku’s brain: the stars may twinkle, but Lev’s eyes  shine .

(Oh, he was such a lovesick fool.  He was  such a lovesick fool. )

“Yaku-san, Yaku-san!” Even after making a nickname, Lev still went back to his old habit from time to time. “Come here! Hug me!”

“Hey. It’s really embarrassing to say that so loudly, you know that?” Nonetheless, Yaku went down the little staircase and hugged Lev. Or, rather, his torso. Curse his shortness. 

Lev hugged back, bouncing up and down on his tiptoes—does he  really need to get any taller?—and his entire body followed. Yaku could feel soothing hands bounce up and down, leaving traces of warmth.

And then it was gone.

Lev jumped out of his arms, leaving a certain coldness. His face was excited, eyes squeezing together. “Hey, Yaku-san! Wait a sec! I have something to show you!”

Well that was sudden. “What is it?”

“Just wait! I’ll get it!” Yaku tilted his head to the side as Lev then ran over to his horse, red cloak flowing in the wind. Yaku could see the little, magical tracker Kuroo clipped on to the cloak, holding firm.  I hope Kuroo won’t find out about the this.  If only because Kuroo would tease him to death if he found out about Lev’s gifts.

Lev ran over and the first thing Yaku noticed was red. Then flowers. Then—

“Roses?”

Lev nodded, quick and sure. “You like them?”

Yaku took the bouquet—small and modest, like he would want—and played with the petals. 

What was this supposed to be for?

Lev was itching to hear an answer, and was looking at him rather expectantly, but Yaku was just really confused on why in the world Lev would give this to him. Was it a joke? Probably not. A token of friendship? But then the roses would be yellow. 

Red though...

“So...do you like them?” Lev said, trying his best to not look worried. “Are they bad?”

“No. They’re very nice.” And he smelt them, and  yep these were definitely fresh. 

He couldn’t hope too much, but...

“What is this for anyway?” Yaku said, half joking, half serious. “You must really like me a lot.”

“Yep.”

“And care a lot.”

“Yep.”

“That’s really sweet.” Yaku looked up and Jesus Christ—“Lev, are you alright?”

Lev straightened up as soon as possible, though his limbs still trembled with energy. “I’m fine!”

“...Sure, and I’m the Prince of Miyagi.” Lev still trembled though, so Yaku took his voice down a few levels. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Well, uh...” 

“Yes?” And Yaku couldn’t help but be a little impatient.

“Well, uh...”—and here, Lev looked rather cute biting his lip, and being uncharacteristically nervous—“I like you a lot!”

“That’s obvious. Why are you so nervous about it?”

Lev stared at him with the most incredulous face imaginable, mouth in an ‘o’ shape. He blinked, and then he realized.

“No! I mean...I like you way more than you think!” And Lev decided to hold onto Yaku’s arms, grazing the skin. He quickly made his hands travel down Yaku’s arms, grasping at his hands instead. “I love you! And I mean that!”

“Wait.” And Yaku had to blink, because if Lev was saying what Yaku thought he was saying...”Are you saying that...”

“Saying what?” And Lev had such a innocent look for someone who was handling Yaku’s weak, yet strong heart without even knowing it.

“That you love me...”—And Yaku had to take in a huge gulp, cause his nerves and reasonable brain weren’t working together well right now—“Do you love me romantically?”

“Yes.”

And if his heart was weak before—with all of the feelings and love that built up—it certainly became weaker with the shock that Lev had given him.

Lev was in love with him.

Lev was in love with him.

“Yaku-san?” When Yaku didn’t answer, Lev began to sweat. “Mori-san? Do you—“

He was cut off by a hug that sent him tumbling to the ground, grass and cold, hard dirt hitting his back and dirtying up his clothes. The hug was so tight that Lev wondered—for a split second—where all that strength came from, and then—

Yaku started holding Lev’s face in his hands. He had a firm grip, Lev noticed. It was the kind of firm grip that meant business. “Say it.”

“What?”

“Say you’re in love with me again.” And Yaku really was trying to calm himself down, but he needed to hear it again. He needed to hear it again.

“I love you.” And Lev said it, and Yaku hugged him again, and it was as if a piece of the world had fit into place.

—————

(Later, when Yaku had apologized for the hug, and both of their nerves had calmed down, they kissed. A peck, really.)

(It was nice. And maybe the kiss wasn’t groundbreaking, or divine, or any word a romance novel would use, and maybe it had mistakes. The both of them never kissed a person, and it was obvious with the way their teeth and noses both bumped against each other.)

(But, cheesy as it was, it was a good kiss, with lots of laughter and love.)

—-———-

Lev was way too happy tonight.

That would have been a good thing, but Kuroo was looking at Lev from the corner of his eye and he could  tell . He could  tell how jumpy and impatient Lev was, from the way he bounced his leg, to the way he was practically eating the feather off the quill he held. 

As the teacher droned on and on and on and on— wow  Kuroo had to remind himself how much he was getting paid for this—he got the pile of books his boss wanted. The teacher took the pile without a single thanks, and then proceeded to drone on some more.

Lev was paying attention today. Way more than usual. Which was a miracle and a blessing, but it didn’t seem to be because he actually  wanted to pay attention. 

It was more like Lev answered the questions as fast and as accurately as possible to get the lesson done faster.

The fuck’s gone into him?  Kuroo thought.  The fuck’s gone into  me ?  I’m being upset over him paying attention for once.

But it was just worry. Because Lev was innocent, and needed to learn to be mature. Because, no matter what Lev thought, while Lev  was a human being who needed to be taken seriously, he was  sixteen . And, being sheltered all his life, he needed to learn way more than numbers and events. Emotions, and healthy habits, and attitudes, and relationships,and how to be a mature, good adult...

Those aren’t things one would learn in school. And especially a sheltered prince.

And Kuroo, thinking about this as the teacher went on about some history lesson or another, thought,  Am I a dad now?

Seriously, to worry so much about someone else, and someone he’s not really supposed to be close with...Kuroo wondered how in the world he began to care about the prince. To a point where he’s practically a second parent.

Well... he thought, seeing Lev’s small grin to himself when he thought no one was looking.  There are worse people to parent.

—————

“Hey.” Kuroo poked Lev’s shoulder, and made sure the tracker on him was secure. “Care to explain why you looked constipated the entire day?”

Despite Kuroo’s...interesting choice of words, Lev did not listen, already getting on his cloak and making sure his horse’s saddle was secure. Humming some old tune no one knew the words to, he grinned to himself.

“Lev.” When Kuroo poked at Lev’s shoulder, he didn’t respond. “Lev!”

“Huh?” Lev snapped out of whatever daze he was in. “Kuroo-san? What?”

“I asked what the deal is with your excitement all day.”

“...I wasn’t excited.”

“That’s bull Lev.” Kuroo ran a hand through his hair. “You were literally jumping out of your seat all day today. And all last week, for that matter.”

“I wasn’t...” But Lev seemed to concede that Kuroo was right, considering the sheepish look he had in his eyes. After Kuroo gave a questioning look, Lev said, “...Maybe something happened last week.”

“And what’s that something, huh?”

“Well... maybe I just started dating some—“

“It’s Yaku isn’t it?” When Lev’s ears turned red, Kuroo started doing what the entirety of Nekoma called his ‘hyena laugh’. “Holy shit, you actually  are with Yaku! Holy  shit !”

“Hey, how did you know!?” When Kuroo continued to laugh, Lev’s face just got more and more indignant. And more and more red, for that matter. “ Kuroo-sannnn ! Stoppppp!”

“I mean—“—Kuroo stopped to laugh some more—“I was making a hypothesis inside my head—“

“You mean an educated guess?”

“Lev.” Kuroo stopped laughing to facepalm, shaking his head. “I told you thousands of times. A hypothesis is not, in any way, an educated guess. It’s a proposed explanation based on limited info, used as a starting—“

“Uh huh.” Lev continued to make sure he was ready for his journey. That is, his journey to get to Yaku as soon as possible. That was what Kuroo assumed anyway. “But I need to get to Yaku-san, Kuroo. Can we talk a little later  pleaseeee ?”

Kuroo grabbed the edge of Lev’s red cloak before he could leave. “Hey, give a few minutes to the guy who helped sneak you out in the first place.”

“Sorry, but I really need to get to Yaku-san!” Lev tugged the cloak out of Kuroo’s hand, but Kuroo grabbed it again, but more firmly than before.

“Nuh uh. The fuck?” It was at that moment that Lev knew he was not going to get away easily. “Christ, I’ve seen thirsty men, but you are on a whole ‘nother level...”

“What do you mean by ‘thirsty’?”

“....Never mind. But seriously, it’s not as if Yaku’s going to die if you’re not there on time.”

“I know that! It’s just that—“—and here, Lev decided to ‘chill the fuck out’ on getting to Yaku, as Kuroo decided to put it—“I just want to kiss and hug and just do everything with Yaku! And talk and travel and eat and love, love, LOVE him—“

“Wow, you’re excited.” Kuroo commented, his face in a smile. “And over someone like Yakkun too. Honestly, someone as mature as Yakkun with someone like you is real unlikely. Yet here we are!”

“He’s amazing.” Lev continued, without listening to Kuroo. That was really becoming a trend, Kuroo noticed. “Honestly, I see so much good in the future. We’re going to cuddle, and kiss all the time, and be cute together—I can’t wait for all the good stuff that happens in romances!”

“You know, there’s ugly shit in a relationship too.” Kuroo said this half-jokingly, half-seriously. As much as Lev’s ranting about this was kinda funny, there was a bad feeling in his gut, swirling around like a penny in a piggy bank. “The good, lovey-dovey stuff is sweet as fuck. But sometimes ugly stuff comes in and you two will have to deal with it toget—“

“Oh! Maybe I’ll sweep him off his feet, and I’ll become the prince in those fairytales Alisa reads to me. Or we’ll make sweets? Cookies maybe. Ahh I just want to make him so happy..As happy as possible!” Lev still rambled on, and Kuroo almost wanted to slap him in the back of the head. What in the world? “Honestly there’s so much to do and so little time...ahh I’m excited just thinking about it—“

“Lev. Take the slow train. Things don’t have to be fast.” And Kuroo had to run a hand through his hair because this was way too much to process. And maybe he was a bit too concerned over something like this—considering Lev, this was just him being him—but this level of excitement...it was too much for even Lev. And this level of over-romanticizing was a little concerning to him. “Like seriously, take a chill pill. You’re  wayyyy too excited about this dating thing you have.”

“I think I’m the right amount of excited!”

“There is excitement, and then there is plain over-reacting. Like seriously—“—and Kuroo made sure to tug a little on Lev’s cloak—“you have time, and you can’t go date without realizing that one day,you’re going to deal with bad shi—“

“Come on Kuroo.” And Lev gave a sad smile, stopping his excitement for a single moment. It was so sad that Kuroo felt a part of his heart cry out in agony. “I mean, this—this relationship—isn’t going to last forever. So I have to make it count!”

“...And you don’t have to rush things to make things count, okay? It actually means more if you take your time.” Kuroo let go of the cloak, and was thankful that Lev didn’t go flying off into the night the second he let go. “And I mean, just in case shit hits the fan, you gotta go through it with Yaku, alright?”

“But bad things aren’t going to happen. I know it won’t!”

“Fate doesn’t care about what you think is going to happen.” Kuroo walked over to Lev’s horse, who had done a great job just waiting for its master. He petted it. “It will fuck you over just for tempting it.”

“But I know enough about Yaku. And this relationship won’t have problems Kuroo!” Lev was actually starting to look a little annoyed. A rare face. It actually looked a little scary. “Besides, what do you know?”

“Just saying Lev, I kinda know more than you, Mr. I-literally-never-had-a-true-friend-that-wasn’t-family.”

Lev didn’t have an answer to that. Though he seemed bothered, and Kuroo had half a mind to apologize for the low blow, Lev seemed to brush it off. “Okay. Okay. But I will do everything in my power to make Yaku-san happy. That’s a good thing, right?”

“Should be.” But then Kuroo remembered all the things Lev had wanted to do with Yaku, and he wondered. He wondered, ‘ Is Lev a bit desperate? Does he think that, without all of these romantic activities, Yaku wouldn’t like him as much ?’ “But then again...maybe you shouldn’t try so hard.”

“So I shouldn’t try to make Yaku-san happy?” Lev actually looked a little pissed—though he was trying his best to not look angry. “I’m just happy when he’s happy—“

“That’s not what I meant! It’s just that he should still like you even when you aren’t actively trying that’s all. You are already enough for him right?—“

“Yeah!” Then Lev played with the reins in his hands. The moonlight shone on his face, and Kuroo couldn’t help but notice how Lev looked a bit emotional. “Or at least, I hope so.”

But before Kuroo could say anything further—like ‘wow Lev, thanks for interrupting me this entire conversation’ or ‘are you okay? Do you have self worth issues?’—Lev decided that this conversation was done and snapped the reins. The horse—obedient and so patient waiting for this moment—immediately started to run to the palace gates, hoofs clacking against stone.

“Hey, Lev—“

“Sorry Kuroo!” Lev had the audacity to grin as he left, and Kuroo ran after him but he was too fast—“But this conversation’s getting too long! I really do need to get to Yaku-san!”

‘Is it really the conversation length, or does he not like the uncomfortable topic?’ Kuroo thought as he ran as fast as possible. But his hand couldn’t catch the edge of Lev’s cloak. And it was with thatthat he thought, ‘I really should exercise more.”

“Bye Kuroo!”

And with that, Lev left, jumping down a tiny hill in the process. As Lev grinned on his way to Yaku’s, Kuroo couldn’t help but sigh, stopping. He panted, putting his hands on his bent knees.

‘He’s not going to listen to me, is he?’

——————

It was stargazing time, as Lev decided.

Yaku had never really appreciated the beauty of the stars. Or, rather, he never truly had the time to really, really look at them and appreciate how pretty they were despite how far they were from Earth, how their light shone, how the stars made people realize how small they are in comparison to the universe. Maybe his child self should have took astronomy classes or something. His childhood was truly the only time where he had enough time to do anything.

(Now he had no real time to do anything.)

But now was the time to forget all of that. Forget his worries. Forget his strife. It was time to simply ignore his problems and enjoy himself for a precious hour.

Lev took a map out of his cloak. Yaku had half a mind to wonder if Lev’s cloak had pockets, but that thought was discarded when Lev pulled him over to the hazel tree. 

(Lev was careful to not trample the flowers and dirt on Mother’s grave, and Yaku felt a pang of affection.)

They climbed up it, up to the highest branch. Well, the highest branch that was still stable anyway. Yaku pointed out how going onto the topmost branch—which was a little too thin-looking for Yaku’s taste—was a bit of a stupid idea. Lev went along with Yaku, and they sat on the second tallest branch. Much sturdier (and safer).

“Yaku-san, wait a sec. I want to show you Scorpio!” Lev then showed the map, which turned out to be a star map. “That’s my star sign! It’s my favorite, and I really want to show you it.”

“Well, of  course it’s your favorite. It’s  your star sign.” Yaku smiled a little, swinging his legs. “There’s kinda a bias, isn’t there?”

“I guess! But I really do want to show you it! I just have to find it...” Lev took a closer look at the map, almost slouching over a little too far down to be safe. Yaku put his arm to Lev’s chest, lifting him up. Lev didn’t notice. “Hmmm...Oh! Yaku-san! What’s your star sign? I want to find yours too.”

“No, just find Scorpio. Let’s find yours first.”

“Yaku-san....let me be nice.....” And Lev looked at him with a pout, and Yaku couldn’t help but snicker a little. Which made Lev pout more. Which made Yaku laugh, kicking Lev in the leg.

“Stop looking like that. I’m allowing you to go first.” Yaku said. “I’ll tell you when we’re done with Scorpio, okay?”

“Aww...” Lev looked a little dejected, but it wasn’t serious. More of a joking sort of dejected. “I want to be a gentleman to you, Yaku-san....”

“You’re  not a gentleman Lev.” When Lev started sputtering at the honesty, Yaku started laughing. Lev was calmed down by a couple of pats to the head. Yaku grumbled as he said his next words. “Seriously. The thought of it is weird to me. Horrifying even. Just be who you are usually and that’s fine.”

“But I want to try a little at least...” Lev was pouting a little.

“...Well then,  gentleman —“—and Yaku had to bite back a smile when Lev’s head whipped up so fast there was an audible crack—“let’s find Scorpio  and Leo at the same time. Compromise.”

“Leo?”

“My star sign. Now come on. Let’s go.” And with a bit of adjustment on the branch—Yaku weighed less than Lev, and so it was a good idea to move him closer to the tip of the branch and Lev to the base—they began stargazing. 

They had a hard time finding Scorpio—something that frustrated Lev to no end—and Leo wasn’t easier. A lot of the night was spent trying to find the two constellations. But, in time, they eventually figured out where each were.

“Honestly Lev, Scorpio doesn’t really look like a scorpion.” 

“What do you mean it doesn’t look like a scorpion? Scorpio is meant to look like a scorpion?”

“It looks like a dandelion puff to me, not a scorpion. That’s what I mean.” Yaku leaned over on Lev’s shoulder, his hair tickling Lev’s neck. Lev didn’t—couldn’t—breathe with this close proximity. ‘ Don’t point it out, don’t point it out, don’t point it out —‘ “Sure, one with a really bent stem, but it still looks like a dandelion puff.”

“Ah, what do you mean?”

“Dandelion puffs. You know.” When Lev made a face that said ‘no, I certainly  don’t know’, Yaku sighed. “You know. The white puffs that grow fromthe ground. You can blow on them and the little stems on them will fly into the wind.”

Lev felt clueless, like that one time listened in on a random shopkeeper complaining about high taxes back when he was thirteen. Back then, he was what people would call a “stupid rich” person, the kind that didn’t know anything about about the poor.

(Thankfully, now he knew way more.)

“Lev? You still have a brain in there?” Yaku stopped waving a hand in front of Lev’s face. “Honestly? You don’t know what a dandelion puff is?”

“Well, uh...” And Lev had really not wanted this to happen, but he remembered who he really was—a sheltered young prince who really had no way to explain himself at the moment. Crap. This date was supposed to be just the two of them, no real life problems getting in the way. But now the illusion of them just being  normal boyfriends was shattered. Crap .

What was he supposed to say? ‘Oh, I’ve been locked up inside a palace for my entire life’? That was not a good idea—Lev knew that for sure. It wasn’t a good idea to reveal his identity this. Late. 

So he just said, “I don’t go outside a lot.” Very sheepishly. And honestly, it was the worst lie he had ever said.

But it worked.

“You? Don’t go outside a lot?” Yaku looked really skeptical, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. But then he laughed, clear as a bell, and everything was well again in Lev’s heart. It was as if the rest of the world didn’t exist, when he heard that laugh. “Well, I’m the one with the garden. I would know about plants and weeds way more than you, you dumb rich boy.”

“Hey! Yaku-sannnn—“

And everything was back to normal.

—————-

(And later, Yaku did show him what a dandelion puff was. And Lev blew on one, and the tiny white puffs flew in the night sky, to wherever the night wind took them.)

(He and Yaku just...watched the dandelion puff disintegrate into thin air, disappearing into the black midnight sky. It was as if it didn’t exist in the first place. The only evidence it was ever there was the tiny stalk Lev held between his fingers.)

(If only problems could be like that dandelion puff. Just blow, and every issue, any risk that came with liking Yaku-san—like being a prince, or being inadequate—would go away.)

But problems were not dandelion puffs. They were big, and they didn’t like going away so easily.

(But for now, he could just be with Yaku-san. Forget everything. Be happy. Be who he is.)

(All he had to do was hide. All he had to do was ignore the elephant in the room.)

—————-

It was a random Saturday in April. The pigeons in the coop were chirping, the trees in the garden swayed...

And Yaku and Lev were making out on a tree. Guess they took the whole “K-I-S-S-I-N-G” song a little too literally.

Now it wasn’t as if this was the first time they ever made out, nor was it the last, but it was still a new feeling anyway. While both were inexperienced at first—in general kissing that is—practice made perfect, and they got the hang of it. Still, even after all this ‘practice’, kissing was still a completely unique experience.

As of the moment, they were both kissing on a tree, feeling the smiles on each other’s lips as they kissed and kissed and kissed. Yaku was starting to look a little flustered—or, at least, had a crack in his composure—as he cupped Lev’s cheeks, his fingernails raking across sensitive skin. Lev’s arms hugged Yaku’s back, large hands pulling Yaku’s body closer. 

They broke apart for air every so often—and so that Yaku could make a comment about Lev’s eagerness to do this sort of thing—but, in a general sense, their faces were practically glued to each other.

The sun warmed—practically scorched—the back of Yaku’s loose shirt. He could feel the heat on his neck, and Lev’s hands crawling up his spine to caress the little hairs at the back of his neck. ‘Oh,’ he thinks, having a moment of weakness, of allowing himself to be honest with himself. ‘This is...extremely pleasant.’

He decided to move his hands, deciding to throw them around Lev’s neck instead. Lev made a pleased noise from the back of his throat, and Yaku smiled. Only this guy could be so pleased by something like that.

(It was then that Yaku’s sleeves rode down, and revealed the skin underneath.)

Yaku did not notice this however. Eventually, they both pulled back for air. “Wow, Skyscraper, you  really like this, huh?”

Lev was breathing hard, but he was grinning, his eyes squeezed together. It was actually really cute. Adorable, even. ‘Wow,’ Yaku thought. ‘I have it bad for this boy.’ “Of course, Yaku-san! I just really, really,  really like you.”

“...Stop saying things like that. It’s really embarrassing, ya know?”

“But it’s true...I really, really like—“

And then Lev’s eyes caught something. Something worth paying attention to. “Hey, Yaku-san?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s that on your arms?”

(And like that, the spell was broken. They were not normal boyfriends anymore. This was not a fairy tale. This was Lev, and his horrible, secretive boyfri—)

“Ah.” Yaku had to shake himself into a sensible mindset. ‘He doesn’t know. Lev doesn’t know about your life, your real life, and it will stay that way.’ “Oh, they’re just cooking burns and a few accidental cuts, don’t worry.”

And it was true. As much as Yaku liked to think of himself as a graceful, not clumsy human being, he had an abnormal talent for getting injuries every time he went near a stove or a cutting board. Even when he put on oven mitts and/or gloves, he would find that he somehow had hurt himself by the time he took them off. It was crazy, to be honest.

There was so much evidence on his arms. Evidence of how much he cooked, more than a normal teenager should. Evidence that he rushed cooking many times, and burned himself when a few droplets of soup decided to fly out of a pot, and evidence that he was not the ‘normal person’ Lev thought he was. Evidence of the times he accidentally cut himself, the cuts on his fingers numerous and healing.

Despite how the state of his forearms could be explained away, be excused with a couple of technical-truths, Yaku felt extremely exposed. It was if his entire life history was being left out for Lev to see. And it was utterly  terrifying .

(And a tiny part of Yaku, the one that sounded exactly like his stepfamily, said that if Lev ever found out, he couldn’t handle it. That part said that he didn’t deserve Lev at all, or his affection , or any sort of love at all. He couldn’t handle hearing about Yaku’s situation, and treat him like a fragile glass figurine, and all sorts of things like that.)

(But that’s only if, and only if, Lev ever found out. Which was never going to happen if Yaku played his cards right.)

Lev just stared at Yaku’s forearms and hands for a long time. Or maybe Yaku’s fear was overplaying how long he stared. Lev rubbed his thumbs over Yaku’s wrists.

“Sorry, it’s ugly right? I’ll just—” And Yaku started to pull up his sleeves, to hide this ugly history, but—

“It’s not ugly at all!” And Lev grabbed his wrists. Then loosened his grip. He had, at one point, accidentally bruised Yaku’s wrists because of his incredible grip. “I mean, it’s a part of Yaku-san, and so I like it!”

Then Lev seemed to reconsider what he just said. There were a few mutters of ‘that doesn’t sound right, not the right words’. “I mean, I don’t like that Yaku-san got hurt! But—“—and here he recollected himself again—“—I accept it! I accept it because it’s Yaku-san!”

“...Honestly Lev, the things you say sometimes...” Yaku tried to hide his face in his knees, the burning in his cheeks becoming more obvious by the second. “It’s just me being clumsy, really...no need to make a big deal of it...”

“But it’s true, Yaku-san.” And Lev held Yaku’s hands up, so that they cupped his face. Wow. Lev had some really smooth skin. “I don’t like the scars. But it’s because you got hurt! The scars are ugly, not you Yaku-san!” He stopped. “Mori-san, I mean.”

Yaku took a look at Lev. Ran his thumbs over Lev’s cheeks. And he couldn’t help but just take a look at those green eyes, always so full of adoration, so full of happiness. Saw a soul purer than an angel tear, a heart that always had room for more.

(Wow. He was really,  really in for the long haul with this guy.)

“Mori-san?” Lev’s eyes blinked, his eyebrows furrowing “Are you okay?” He looked down at Yaku’s palms, tracing the ‘M’ on them with his pointer finger. “Do your arms hurt?”

“Ah, I’m okay.” What in the world was that thought? Lev was good, but also a complete and utter dork. “And they’re healing. Don’t worry about me, Lev.”

“But do they still hurt?”

“...Not particularly.”

“...So they still hurt then!”

Yaku sighed, more out of habit than actual exasperation. “Okay, okay, they’re kinda sore, but it really isn’t a big deal.”

“Well, kisses always makes injuiries better, right?” 

And before Yaku could say anything, Lev brought one of Yaku’s fingers to his face. Kissed one of the paper cuts. “Don’t hurt Mori-san again,” he said, as if the cut could hear and listen to him. It was kinda funny in hindsight, but at the moment, Yaku didn’t really care.

Lev kept on going. Feather-light kisses were put to Yaku’s fingernails, to the joints on his fingers, tohis palms. Yaku could feel soft lips brush against his tough skin, the sensation almost ticklish.

Lev went up. Kissed the burns, kissed the bruises, kissed that one cut made from when Stepmother decided to throw a pot at his head. Lev started giggling in the middle of doing this, lips smiling against Yaku’s skin. Nonetheless, he kept murmuring loving words underneath his breath.

By the time Lev finished his... display , Yaku had forgotten how to breathe. 

Lev finally brought his head up, and pulled down Yaku’s sleeves. Grinning ear to ear, with the sunset behind him, he was absolutely, positively beautiful. “See? It doesn’t hurt now, right?”

“....Yeah. Definitely.” And goodness gracious Yaku’s voice was way too shaky for his tastes. ‘Get yourself together! It’s just kisses. Just kisses,’ he thought. And he was right; they  were just kisses. But at the same time, this was Lev, and holy shit that boy had a powerful influence on him. “You really didn’t need to do that you know. My skin is used to my stumbling.”

“But Mori-san, I really like kissing you. Even if it isn’t on the mouth.” And, as if to prove his point, Lev pecked Yaku on the forehead. “Besides, I like making you happy as much as possible. I really like you.”

“Yeah, I know.” And Yaku had to turn his face away, the blush a little too obvious on his face. He had enough pride to not show that sort of thing openly, but Lev—despite having some moments of stupidity—probably already saw his face. Lev was probably grinning right now to be honest. “But—and don’t hold this over me Lev—anything you do makes me happy.” Yaku then decided to look at up the sunset. “So you don’t even have to try at all.”

“Not trying is not enough for someone as good as you though.” 

And before Yaku could ask what in the world Lev meant by that, Lev smiled wide—well, wider than usual—and gave a quick hug. “Mori-san, you know I like all of you right?”

“Well, yeah. You repeat it a million times.”

“Yeah! And that includes these ‘ugly’—“—and here, Lev did some exaggerated air quotes—“—scars on your arms!” Lev thought a little. “And all the ugly parts of you, for that matter.”

“Really?” Yaku said, half skeptical. On one hand, Lev was genuine, and that was a fact. He couldn’t lie to save his life. 

On the other hand...

(No. He would not think about it here. Not when he was in Lev’s presence. Not when he was happy.)

“Yeah, Mori-san. Really. I do like you!”

“Honestly you sound like a broken record, Lev.” Yaku petted the top of Lev’s head—Lev leaning into the touch like a cat—and took Lev’s hand into his. He tried not to think about how Lev didn’t  really know him. Well, all of him. “But...thanks.”

Lev swung his legs in happiness, fingers curling around Yaku’s. Then...

“Hey, Mori-san,” Lev said, gazing down upon the ground, “how do we get down from here?”

————-

One of their dates was to a confectionary shop. It was connected to a restaurant, so that people could immediately take a seat right after they bought something. It was a good place to grab a bite to eat, and the mood that Sunday was light. Stepmother, Anya, and Ivy were out shopping for the day—something about getting more clothes and jewelry—and Father was off being a merchant again, so Yaku had much more time to himself.

(Hey, it wasn’t as if he didn’t do his chores. He did all of them early in the morning just so there would be no complaints from his family by the time they came home.)

Now, it wasn’t everyday Yaku got to eat sweets—on the times he had to make cake (among other things), Ivy and Anya would eat all of it before he could grab a bite—but Lev had pulled him over. Said he felt like grabbing a bite to eat. And it was an innocent enough request, and so Yaku allowed Lev to pull him into the store, with their pinkies linked.

Nekoma was relatively quiet this Sunday. The air was sweet with the smell of freshly baked goods and wet summer grass, and the noise level was just right. Not loud, and yet not eeriely quiet either. And, as Yaku got pulled into the shop, he could hear the murmurs of the patrons in the restaurant next door, snippets of conversation flowing through one ear and out the other.

Honestly, it was like a coffee shop. 

(Or at least how he would  imagine a coffee shop. He never went to these sorts of places. If he spent his [very little amount] money on something like coffee, his stepfamily would scold him for su—)

(No. He would not think of that now. Not. Now.)

“Do you even have enough money?” Yaku went through his wallet, which still had enough money for these sorts of things. “Places like this can be expensive.”

“Yeah, I still have some!” And Lev showed off a bag of gold coins, and Yaku had to shove down a quick feeling of jealousy. Honestly, Lev was way too innocent. Specifically, innocent about exactly what Yaku’s situation was—

(Nope. He was not going to think about this today. No. Way.)

(Nonetheless though, it was a general truth that Lev’s money, even a small amount of it, could get Yaku out of his home and get himself a new life. But Yaku was not going to think about that.)

(He would never, in his entire life, try to ask for lots of money, and definitely not from Lev. It was NOT at ALL right to prey on someone’s kindness, and Lev...was Lev. Who in their right mind would try to ask that sort of thing from their  boyfriend ?)

(Besides, he had a sense of pride. He would get out of his situation on his own. As always.)

Yaku took a look at the pastries on display, pulling lightly on Lev’s pinky. Lev followed, and, while Yaku wasn’t actually looking at Lev, he knew exactly what Lev looked like. 

“Oh, Yaku-san, look!” And Lev pointed at some eclairs. “Wow, those look so good. Are you looking Yaku-san? Are you looking?”

“Yeah, I’m looking, Lev,” Yaku said, amusement coloring his voice. “And Lev, what’s with the formalities? We’re boyfriends, you know?”

And Yaku meant this to come off as playful, and Lev understood that he was joking. But Lev had one of those  looks , the kind where his face turns terrifyingly blank and serious, flash across his face. Only for a single second of course. But it happened nonetheless. “Ah, sorry  Mori-san ! Yeah we are boyfriends.” A small giggle here. “Honestly  Mori-san , I’m too happy you let me call you that.”

(Lev said ‘Mori-san’ with a certain reverence, heaviness in every syllable, as if he pronounced it wrong, he would never forgive himself.)

(Yaku...didn’t know how to feel about that.)

A quick pause. “But anyway, can we buy the eclairs, Mori-san?”

A pause. “Yeah, sure Lev. But nothing too expensive, alright?” He wagged his finger. “Someone like me can’t relate with your rich boy privledge.”

“Of course!” 

And so after that, they bought their things: seven eclairs for Lev (who looked so excited about eating them, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet, Yaku had to smile) and a single black coffee for Yaku. 

Well, it was originally going to be one black coffee, but then Lev made fun of Yaku ordering the so called “devil’s drink”, and then that escalated to buying milk, and sugar, and then they got a straw, and then the existence of frappuccinos were brought up—

Needless to say, Yaku’s order ended up being a little more ornate (and, surprisingly, a little more tasty) than originally planned. Luckily, Lev payed for the whole thing, though it should be noted that Yaku protested. “Anything for Mori-san,” he said.

Anyway, as they moved to the restaurant next door, they sat down at a table near a large window and began to eat. 

Now, it wasn’t as if they were all over each other or anything like that. But they conversed, and looked at each other, and—if an onlooker was looking objectively—they were obviously close, one way or another. And Yaku was well aware of how he practically stared at Lev’s face for an eternity, with half of his attention focused on what Lev was saying, and the other half just focusing on how incredibly bright Lev’s smile was. Wow. Maybe God wanted all people to be blind. With how much Lev smiled on a daily basis, it would only be a matter of time before the entirety of Nekoma was blinded.

Yaku shook himself out of those sorts of thoughts. Jeez, this whole love business was a trip for his mind. 

And yet, as Lev goes on for the billionth time about fucking peasant taxes of all things—and Yaku isn’t kidding when he says billionth—he can’t help but feel his heart become soft. Palpable. God fucking damn it. How is it that these sort of things actually sound even a  little interesting, just because it’s Lev?

And yet, if he had to be truthful with himself, he didn’t mind at all.

Meanwhile, Lev was plain having the time of his life. The sweets were delicious, the atmosphere was great, and he was allowed to talk as long as he wished (though Yaku still thwacked him at the back of the head when he spoke too loud for the restaurant). And it was freeing, and he wasn’t a prince with overprotective parents, and he didn’t have a prophecy, and he didn’t have to think about such things as expectations, or the time limit on this relationship, or  anything .

And for once, the world was just them.

Eventually, Lev had to go take a bathroom break. Though he said it a little too loudly, and Yaku berated him, and then Lev pointed out that Yaku was being loud too....

Yaku was drinking his frappuccino, waiting. Though it was a little  too sweet, that was the only flaw it had. The whipped cream mixed well with the tiny amount of caramel syrup, there was the right amount of milk, the consistency of the coffee was just right. And, if he wasn’t so concerned with saving up money at the moment, he would have liked to have a less-sweet version of this every single day.

Honestly, this was the most relaxed he had been in ages. His fingers weren’t burning with his death grip on a broom, he didn’t get burned by a stray spark from the fireplace, and the sickly smell of cleaning products didn’t follow him around for once in his life. And it was best to savor this moment, for these quiet moments never last as long as they should, and Yaku had grown quite tired of exciting things.

He took a sip and looked out the window. The sun was setting—it was about five at night—and the little lanterns outside the restaurant started glowing in preparation. There was also a woman with two girls, with mountains of shopping bags, coming over to the restaurant—

Wait.

No.

No.

Yaku immediately ducked under the table.

Jesus Christ, he better just have bad eyes. Because if the worst has come to worst, and his stepfamily was literally RIGHT THERE, about to come into the restaurant HE was eating at, at the absolute wrong time, he was going to curse the heavens and earth—

“Mori-san?” And there Lev went again, with that very purposeful way of saying his name. “What are you doing under the table?”

Well fuck. Screw coincidence. “Get under the table. I promise it’s for your own good.”

“Umm...okay?” And Lev got under the table—though it was a little awkward with how long his legs were, so his legs had to practically be in Yaku’s lap. “But anything for you Ya—“

A kick, and Lev pouted a little, but silenced. Close call there. There was no way he was going to have his name called here. Not when his stepfamily was right there, and literally walking past their table, and even a single glance at him could doom him and Lev. 

Yaku faced his body towards the wall, shaking Lev’s legs off his knees. He covered his face—again, he wasn’t risking anything—and waited for as long as he wished.

“Ya—“A look, and Lev went back to using Yaku’s first name. Thank good god for the fact his stepfamily never used his first name. They probably forgot his name was Morisuke; his family had been calling him Cinderella for literal  years . “Mori-san, what’s going on?”

“I’ll...” Yaku trailed off, realizing that he couldn’t promise that he would explain. There was no way he could explain this. Or rather, at least, there was no way he could explain in  detail . “Wait a little. I’ll explain once  they leave.”

“They?”

“Shhh. Just wait.” And Yaku’s voice was the quietest it could possibly be, and yet he still felt tense. 

And Yaku could feel Lev burn holes right into him, and Yaku knew that he was having a multitude of questions swirling around in his head. And Yaku knew then that there was no getting out of the inevitable questioning that was going to happen after this.

Lev wasn’t good at keeping his questions to himself. No, he wanted answers as soon as possible. And, even if Yaku told him to mind his business—which was never happening, considering that Yaku was  not going to say something like that to Lev—Lev had a certain, intense look, that would likely lay on his face for a long time. Not intense on purpose, mind you. But Lev’s feelings were laid out on his face, obvious as the words in a picture book. Therefore, it was extremely obvious when his thoughts had more questions than answers.

And Yaku, despite having seen much worse than an  intense stare , of all things, wasn’t going to have that stare directed at him. 

Footsteps went by their table. Yaku couldn’t see Lev’s face, but he could imagine it had fifteen different expressions of confusion. 

He heard heels stop right in front of their table. A hitch of breath.

Then the heels were gone, going away from him, and the footsteps went over to the front of the restaurant—which was by their table. The doorbell rang, and the door closed, and the footsteps stopped entirely.

(Yaku had a vague thought. Wow, all of these people—as few as they were—probably thought of him as weird for being under the table, all squashed up and uncomfortable. They probably thought Lev was weird too, for hiding with him. And they didn’t know him, nor his situation, nor his family, nor who he was. He was a complete stranger to them.)

(He really was alone. All people were, to some extent. Just some less so than others.)

“Mori-san?”

“Lev. Sorry, I just...”—a breath in—“...you can get out now.”

And so Lev did get out, untangling those stupidly long legs from under the table. It took a long time—the untangling—because of that. And Yaku turned around, and the look on Lev’s face was...unreadable. Unreadable, and yet intense.

Yeah, there was no way he was getting out of questioning. Lev was going to get answers, whether Yaku wanted to talk or not.

And Yaku also had to deal with the fact that he needed to get Lev off his back. Leave him alone. Not because of any annoyance, but because his stepfamily was in Nekoma village, and they were likely going to be home any second now—

(Calm down, Yaku. He said that to himself, taking a couple of deep breathes. You can do this.)

Lev got a couple of cupcakes for the both of them—“I have to get something to eat on the way home!”—and they exited the restaurant. Yaku was trying to hide his face in Lev’s cape, and he both hated and liked how easily it engulfed him. Even worse—or better, Yaku wasn’t sure—Lev was outright petting his head, calling him cute. Even when Yaku was very adamant about not being considered cute—“It’s rather insulting!”—Lev still

petted anyway.

But these sorts of silly things can’t last.

Yaku pulled away from Lev’s hand, getting out of Lev’s cloak. He had to get home before his stepfamily. He  had to. 

“Ya—Mori-san!” Lev caught his wrist. “What happened back there—“

“DON’T—“ Lev flinched at how loud Yaku was. Yaku felt a pang of guilt. 

(Lev didn’t mean anything by it. It was just one touch. One touch. A sudden touch sure, but Lev didn’t mean  anything —)

“Lev, I’m—“—Yaku took a deep breath. “Sorry, that was way uncalled for. Sorry. Sorry. Just...”

(‘ Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck is wrong with me? ’)

Lev loosened his grip. Yaku had to remind himself that Lev meant no harm at all. He just had a strong grip. ‘It was just a strong grip.’ Lev repeated himself. “Mori-san, what happened backthere?”

Yaku took in a breath. He gripped onto Lev’s hand, taking the loose fingers that loosely hung at his fingernails. Lev’s hand was way larger than his, and therefore stronger, but Lev’s fingers were way too gentle now. Timid, even. It was such a horrible contrast to Lev’s usual, strong way of loving that Yaku started hating himself a little more.

He started pulling at Lev’s hand, and they both started walking. Yaku would have liked to run home, but that can wait until he explained himself to Lev. Well, explained enough to get Lev to leave him alone and have the both of them go their separate ways, at least. “...Lev, I just really don’t like those people.”

“Those people?” Lev cocked his head to the side. He pulled his cloak onto his head as he did so, and it was kinda cute.

“The people that came in. The woman and her two daughters.”

“The girls with the high heels?”

“Yes.”

“What did they do to you?” Lev looked concerned,in a weirdly cute way, and Yaku would have laughed if the atmosphere wasn’t so heavy. 

“...I just really don’t like them.” And Yaku knew he was avoiding the question, but he was not going to lie to Lev. If he did, he would feel even more guilt, and his heart was already too damaged as it was.

“That’s it?” Suspicion. 

“Lev, have you ever hated someone? Ever?” Yaku was sure Lev had never hated anyone, but hey. Today was full of surprises. “You’ll understand.”

Lev thought about it. It was kinda cute, watching him bite into a cupcake, his mouth littered with pieces of frosting. “No. Not really.”

“Seriously? No one?” Yaku reaches up and wiped Lev’s mouth with a napkin. Lev stopped for a second, body still, but he got back to moving at Yaku’s walking speed soon enough. “ No one ?”

“I just don’t hate anyone!” Lev pulled down the hood of his cloak again. “Well,  hate anyway. I  dislike people. But not  hate .”

To be honest, Yaku wasn’t even surprised. Of fucking course Lev didn’t hate anyone. “You wouldn’t understand then. Cause sometimes, when you hate someone, you just want to never see them at all.”

Lev took another bite of his cupcake. Eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t get it.”

“Sheltered rich boys won’t get it.” 

Lev was quiet. A bit too quiet, for one second longer than usual. But when Yaku turned to look at Lev, Lev turned to look at him with a smile. “I guess that’s true! But I just can’t hate anyone. That’s the truth!”

Yaku sighed, out of habit rather than actual annoyance, and the conversation went to lighter topics.

—————————

(To put your mind at rest, dear reader, Yaku did make it home in time. Regardless though, he had to make dinner and dessert rather quickly.)

(When Father questioned why there was frosting on his face, Yaku simply pulled out the cupcakes for dessert.)

———————-

It was night. The day was the cusp between summer and fall, and the air was the perfect temperature. It was the sort of weather where magical things happened.

Yaku knew many magical things. White Crow, for instance, who still helped out with groceries and clothing. Hinata was still a crow—though that might change in the next year or so, considering the progress on the whole “one million lentils” thing. And he had a fucking magic tree of all things. There was no way he  wasn’t desensitized to magic.

But there’s a certain way the world worked today. Everything was beautiful. The tree near his mother’s grave had leaves the color of turquoise gems, the fields near his house were glimmering like diamonds, the night sky was clear enough to show galaxies of stars, his chest felt light. 

It really was one of  those days.

And he was spending today with Lev, and Kuroo, and Kenma, and the rest of the ‘Nekoma Group’, running through fields and getting drunk off of laughter. Today was as perfect as perfect can get. 

(And honestly? Never mind the fact it was midnight.)

Lev had climbed up a tree, yelling something about wanting to get up as high as possible. Of course, Kuroo had teased him—“You’re half the height of the tree, Lev! That’s not a big accomplishment!”—and Kenma had looked up only to shake his head in disappointment. Kenma would then go back to having his head hung low, practicing his magic. 

Yamamoto had cheered Lev on, while Fukunaga was pulling Shibayama away, saying something along the lines of “Don’t be like that idiot.” Kai was just laughing along—though he urged Lev to be careful—and Inuoka was being Inuoka.

Yaku meanwhile? He was climbing up after Lev. Why? Because the damn idiot won’t stop making fun of his height.

“Lev I swear to God—“

Lev was laughing—saying something along the lines of “I don’t have to jump to reach branches, like you Yaku-san!”—and god was Yaku coming up to pull Lev the fuck down. Lev was heavy—what healthy person of his height wasn’t?—and there was no way  all of the branches were sturdy enough to hold the weight.

Eventually, Yaku struggled his way to the top, long after Lev had gotten there. Jesus Christ, no person’s legs should be as long as Lev’s. And yet Lev had legs so long, he could use his foot to grab onto a branch two feet above his head. That shouldn’t even be anatomically possible, but then again, what did Yaku know?

“Yaku—Mori-san!” Lev patted a seat next to him. The air was cool up at the top of the tree, cool enough that the sharpness of the air woke up Yaku’s sleep-derived brain. “Sit with me!”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.” Yaku sat down, his talk being somewhat sarcastic. “You should really apologize for making fun of my height.”

“When did I do that?” A slight, sharp pain of fury went through Yaku at Lev’s words.

“You know.” When Lev made a face that said ‘no, I genuinely don’t know’, Yaku sighed. “Never mind.”

Lev stared at him for a few more seconds, searching. For someone so harmless, Yaku was still a little terrified of Lev’s genuine, pure concentration. Then he looked down, and focused his gaze there, and Yaku let out a breath.

Everyone was having fun today. The entire Nekoma Group was taking care of each other, laughing and smiling. The view from the tree was great. 

These sort of magical days, where all strife was forgotten and true happiness was made, would never happen again. These sorts of moments were short. Amazingly, horribly short. That was why, as Yaku looked down upon his friends, he smiled along with them. It was best to savor these sort of things while they last.

It was the sort of day where inhibitions were dropped. It was night too. People always had loose lips at nighttime. 

Maybe that was why Yaku went into his thoughts. Maybe that was why he took the time to think about the horrible things he had experienced, his own purpose in the universe, the things he’ll have to reveal to Lev one day. And maybe that was why his lips decided to roam free, betraying him.

“Will you love me? Even if I am a bad person?” 

Lev turned his head towards him. He began to think. Green eyes got focused. And despite the fact that, objectively, Lev’s thinking face was slightly terrifying, Yaku knew he was just curious. “What do you mean?”

“Would you love me even if I turned out to not be...good?” Yaku got himself into this conversation, so he resigned himself to being almost uncomfortably honest this night.

“Of course.”

Yaku looked up. Really took in Lev. Maybe it was just his lovesick brain, but Lev’s smile looked truer and purer than anything he had ever seen before. “But Mori-san, you are a good person. So asking a question like that is useless.”

‘Bet you wouldn’t say that if you knew who I was,’ Yaku thought. But he appreciated the thought nonetheless.

“Mori-san?” Yaku paid attention. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you’re frowning.”

“Observant.”

“Yeah, I guess so!” Lev took a look to the ground again. Kuroo and Inuoka were...dancing? Honestly, it was a little hard to tell with the distance. “But Mori-san?”

Lev gave a smile directly at him, just for him. “I’ve seen enough of you. A person who stays up until midnight for me, a person who loves his friends and takes care of them, a person who sacrifices little things to make others happy? That sort of person can’t ever be bad.”

And for once in Yaku’s life, he felt happy.

———————-

Wakatoshi was a bit restless today.

Tendou had a few jobs as a spectra, and a lot of them involved hanging around the fairy palace and sucking up to some officials. While this work was—frankly—boring as fuck, it gave him a few glimpses of Wakatoshi. And no matter how many times Tendou just wished officials would stop assuming he had the memory of a goldfish and fucking take him seriously, a sighting of Wakatoshi doing alright would be enough to alleviate any amount of pain. 

Today though...

Yeah, Wakatoshi had some terrible stress lines across his forehead.

Time felt like taking forever, and the day dragged on and on at a snail’s pace, but it became night soon enough. Fucking finally. Wakatoshi did not get stressed often, so it might as well have been the end of the world for Tendou. 

He climbed up the stairs. Made it to the top floor. Made sure no gossipy maids were around when he snuck to Wakatoshi’s room. 

The door creaked open. 

Wakatoshi was doing paperwork, as always. That was good. Familiar sight to see. The pen scratched, and the sound of white robes flopping against a smooth desk was calming. Calming, in the sense that it wasn’t out of the ordinary.

Still, Wakatoshi’s shoulders were stiff. 

“Wakatoshi-kun?” 

“You can come in.” Wakatoshi’s shoulders loosened a little, but not by much. Shit.

Tendou closed the door behind him, locking it for good measure. Usually, he would start things off with a joke and go from there—honestly, childhood trauma gave him a good sense of humor, and he’s not sure how to feel about that—but...

“Wakatoshi-kun? You alright?” The funny stuff can wait for now.

“I’ll be fine. Soon.” Wakatoshi was still writing, but it was errratic, writing fifteen words in one second, and then taking a full ten seconds to write two words.

“Soon?”

Wakatoshi thought for a while. Tendou kneeled down to hug his neck, and the lines on Wakatoshi’s head relaxed a little. 

It took a couple of minutes, but Wakatoshi did eventually finish the form he had to sign. “You know how I see the future?”

“Yeah.” Tendou raised an eyebrow. “Everyone knows you, Wakatoshi-kun.”

“...You know how sometimes, for the sake of a good result, I have to let something bad happen?”

...

Oh.

That was what Wakatoshi was worried about.

“Are you questioning your morals, Wakatoshi-kun?”

“...I suppose that is what I’m doing.”

“Wakatoshi!” He pinched Wakatoshi’s cheeks once, for feeling. “It’s your job to let these sorts of things happen. Like, literally the only job you have is to tell the future.”

“I know.”

Tendou hugged Wakatoshi’s neck, breathing in the smell of paper and wax. Honestly, serious, emotional things are not his way to go. Like, he would—if it were anyone else—not want to help at all. It’s not that he doesn’t have empathy or anything. It’s just that he can’t say the right thing to save his life.

“You know Prince Lev?” A nod from Tendou. “I have seen the future. It is not a pretty future for both him and his destined lover.”

“...But it will get better between them, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well...do you want my opinion?” Tendou used one of his hands to pet Wakatoshi’s hair. “You aren’t doing wrong. It’ll turn out fine in the end, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Wakatoshi’s shoulders relax a little, relax to an almost normal height. Centuries of dealing with the guilt that comes with knowing the future had done their toll on him. He is used to being a bystander to fate.

These sort of things don’t take as much as a toll as they used to. And so Wakatoshi bounces back from these sort of troubles a bit more easily.

For the rest of the night, Tendou goes to talking on and on, about anything and everything that comes to mind. Wakatoshi mumbled a little, and occasionally pushed Tendou off of him to roll his shoulders, but sticks to writing and paperwork.

Tendou was happy when he saw the lack of stress lines by the end of the night.


	16. Sorry.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> God fuck I didn’t want to do this

So, uh, this was a long time coming.

I’m not going to continue this fic. Literally I’m never going to continue this. If anyone wants to continue this fic, they can (just gift it to me and name this fic as an inspiration, and thank you in advance if someone does, actually, try to write more of this for me) but I’m never finishing this.

I hate the fact that I gave up on this, because I pride myself on not being a quitter, but My Hero Academia has got me by the ass because of how good it is, and I have fallen out of the Haikyuu fandom HARDCORE.

However. HOWEVER.

I’m not going to leave y’all hanging.

Next chapter will be a summary of the rest of the story, so that you will all be satisfied. I hope this is enough of an apology. I hope that you did not regret reading this. I truly did love working on this, but that time has come to an end.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful day, dear reader.


End file.
